


sunlight feels good now don't it

by djhedy



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anger, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Because it's true, Bisexuality, Cuties, Dissociation, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Social Anxiety, adam parrish deserves love, awkward flirting alert, but in a canonical way, but mostly nice, everyone loves latin, i added it, i mean il take my cute with a side of angst please, lgbt society, probably, that's my jam, welcome to my jam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-09-07 04:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20303707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djhedy/pseuds/djhedy
Summary: Adam walked into the small lecture hall and headed straight for the middle row. It was early, there was no one to edge past as he made it to the other side of the row and pulled his bag over his shoulder. He had thought about it the whole walk there: he wanted to stand out, he didn’t want to stand out; he wanted his hearing ear to face the front of the classroom; he didn’t want to seem like a slacker, or too keen. He pulled out a notepad and pens and finally his schedule, tapping the end of his pen restlessly against the desk as his eyes ran over and over the names of classes and lecture rooms and.He had thought about this.---in which adam is an awkward freshman with social anxiety, gansey is a guy who gives touches easily, and his friend ronan calls adam a nerd, which he kinda likes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do yourself a favour and listen to "RABi" by bon iver (off the new album). it gave me such adam vibes i apparently had to write a whole thing.

Adam walked into the small lecture hall and headed straight for the middle row. It was early, there was no one to edge past as he made it to the other side of the row and pulled his bag over his shoulder. He had thought about it the whole walk there: he wanted to stand out, he didn’t want to stand out; he wanted his hearing ear to face the front of the classroom; he didn’t want to seem like a slacker, or too keen. He pulled out a notepad and pens and finally his schedule, tapping the end of his pen restlessly against the desk as his eyes ran over and over the names of classes and lecture rooms and.

He had thought about this.

Over the next ten minutes people started filtering in, and Adam couldn’t decide whether to look up and smile or keep pretending he hadn’t already memorised his schedule.

He couldn’t ignore it when two people sat directly behind him, no attempt to keep their conversation private as words fell onto his desk.

“_Please _don’t.”

“Begging already, Dick?”

Adam’s eyes widened and the corner of his mouth twitched. In a corner of his notepad he wrote _where is Robinson Hall B _and circled it, once.

“I’m not begging I’m asking,” said the first voice.

“It’s too early for nuance.”

“It’s 11am and I think politely requesting that you _don’t _attempt to break into and hotwire the mustang in the parking lot isn’t much to ask.”

Adam smirked, shifted in his seat. He stopped rereading his schedule and lifted his eyes off the desk.

“You didn’t see the owner man, she was at least _forty _–”

“What does age have to do with anything when you’re contemplating committing a crime?”

“What’s a crime is that I’m this young and sexy and don’t own a fucking _mustang_.”

A short, quiet laugh escaped Adam. He felt it like a bark, uncontrolled. Something about how the guy had drawn out the word _mustang_, like a whine, had broken him. He cleared his throat, noticing the two behind him had stopped talking, so half-turned in his seat and said, “Sorry, but I’m not sure a judge would agree that those two crimes cancel each other out.”

The guy directly behind him grinned broadly, smile lines decorating the skin beneath his glasses. He turned triumphantly to his right. “You’re outnumbered, Lynch.”

_Lynch_, all shaved head and rolling eyes slumped back in his seat, hands behind his skull and stared up at the ceiling, saying, “_God _I’m not gonna fucking steal a car ok? Way to make me look like a criminal.”

“No, you’re clearly the victim here,” Adam said. Lynch’s gaze snapped to his own, and he smirked.

It was as though Adam’s words were finally catching up to his brain, and suddenly his body was all nervous self-consciousness.

Before he could overthink, glasses guy said, “I’m Gansey, and this is Ronan Lynch.” He actually stuck his hand out, and Adam blinked once before shaking it.

A beat too late he said, “Oh, Adam. I’m Adam. Parrish.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Gansey said, still smiling at him. “We’re sorry for disturbing you.”

Before Adam could wave this off Ronan Lynch said, “Don’t speak for others asshole that’s rude.”

Adam looked at him, amused. “You’re not sorry for disturbing me?”

“Unless you got a pin-up on that schedule I think we were doing you a favour.”

Gansey elbowed him but Adam just shook his head lightly, turning back round as the teacher finally started the class.

Adam was slow to pack up: his backpack had a slot for a laptop, which he used for his largest notebook. The side pocket had a water bottle in, and his pens and wallet and sandwich went in the middle section. He took a sip of his water before replacing the bottle and standing up, pulling his sweater down over his hips and adjusting both straps on his shoulder. He was the last one out of the classroom, and he didn’t have to check his schedule again to know he had a free hour before his next class.

Outside, he saw Ronan and Gansey again, arguing about something in the parking lot. Ronan was gesturing, barely looking at Gansey, a wistful expression on his face. He saw Adam looking and rolled his eyes. “Oh god here’s the crime police.”

Gansey looked round as Adam made his way over. “Not to be pedantic,” Adam said, “but aren’t all police crime police?”

“_Adam_, thank god,” said Gansey, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Adam held his body stiffly, did not wince, absolutely did not wince. “It’s the mustang.”

“I just said we should take a look in the hood –”

“And how ya gonna do that without breaking into the interior to pop it?” asked Adam, shrugging his hands into his jeans pocket. He felt his sweater sliding above his wrists and wished he’d left his hands dangling at his sides.

Ronan flicked a glance at Gansey, then back at Adam, a glint in his eye, “Look, officer…” Gansey removed his hand from Adam’s shoulder and shoved the side of Ronan’s face. Ronan laughed, a low breathy sound that rose up from his lungs and exploded over his face.

“Adam,” said Gansey, “we’re going to find lunch. Care to join us?”

Adam didn’t have to look at his schedule to know he had a free hour before his next class.

He wanted to check his schedule.

He had waited too long to answer.

He removed his hands.

“Sure,” he said, a half-smile for good measure.

Gansey clapped the back of Adam, urging them both forwards at the same time. “Great,” he said, sounding like he meant it, unaware he’d touched Adam more times in the last hour than anyone had in months. “So, Adam Parrish, where are you from?”

Adam clutched at the straps of his bag, watching his feet slap the concrete besides Gansey’s, assuming from the gangly noise that Ronan was following behind. “Well, Virginia,” he said.

“Oh really? Us too! Well, DC,” Gansey added, apologetic. “But only for school. We attended together. My family split their time between DC and the coast. Ronan’s family had a farm in west Virginia.”

Ronan appeared on Adam’s other side, so he clarified, “Western, Dick, not fucking _West_, you sound so fucking east coast.”

Adam smiled, and turned to look at Ronan as they walked. “You’re a farm boy?”

Ronan looked back, met his eyes. “And you’re what…” Adam’s heart skipped a beat. Trailer trash. Trailer trash. He was trailer trash and his sweater was second hand and it was the nicest sweater he owned and that’s why he’d worn it today, navy pleats weaving across his chest, and he willed his hands not to adjust his sweater, had it ridden up again, why had he bought something a size too small – “new money?”

His heart thumped in his chest, and he looked away.

“Just so you know,” Gansey says, “Ronan means that as an insult.”

Adam shrugged. “Not exactly.”

Without missing a beat Ronan said, “Thank god, I’m so bored of rich people.”

“Lynch, your family aren’t exactly struggling.”

“Exactly, how _tedious_.”

The way Ronan said it made it sound like he hadn’t meant _how tedious_, but like he was quoting something, or mocking something, and although Adam wasn’t sure what it made him feel better, and a little laugh broke from his lips.

Out of the corner of his eye Adam could see Ronan’s smile.

The nearest cafeteria was next to Robinson Building, and in Adam’s head he drew a neat line through the note in his pad. They sat near the window, light streaming onto the table. Gansey asked polite questions – where was Adam’s dorm, did he like his roommate, what was he majoring in – and Adam answered politely – Hughes Hall, well Daniel has interesting taste in music but it’s only been a few days so, he hadn’t decided yet but was taking science and history courses to give himself choices – and finally Ronan butted in.

“That sounds pretty sensible for someone choosing to study Latin.” He raised an eyebrow, and stuffed pasta in his mouth.

Adam said, “I like Latin.”

Ronan huffed, Gansey poked Ronan in the cheek, and Ronan swatted him away. “_You_ like Latin, Lynch, you can’t be a hypocrite here.”

“Yeh but I get the impression Parrish is here to ‘_make something of himself’,_” he said, air quoting around the words, “I’m here because Declan’s a fuckhead.”

Adam coughed on his pasta, swallowed it down, and said, “Uh, Declan?”

“Brother,” Ronan grunted, pushing food around his plate. “Older. Fuckhead,” he added.

“Right,” said Adam, considering. “It sounds like you have a hard life. First no mustang, and now… fuckhead older brother.”

Ronan grinned at Adam’s _fuckhead_ and Gansey sighed. “Oh god he’s already corrupting you. I feel like I should apologise to your parents.”

Adam hummed noncommittally, asked Gansey where his dorm was – McKinley, did you know it was funded by William McKinley’s son, built the same year his father was murdered? – who his roommate was – Ronan and I are sharing, it seemed a good idea at the time – what he was majoring in –

“Oh well I know that I would like to study history,” Gansey said, limbs leaning on the table enthusiastically, “but I haven’t decided where to specialise yet. Of course we covered some Russian history at school, and the world wars, and the civil war but I would absolutely love to dive into some European history, perhaps colonialism – perhaps something early modern – are you a fan of history, Adam?”

“He’s in our Latin class,” Ronan said, as if that explained things.

“Well, I’m really there more for the linguistics,” Adam started.

Ronan put his fork down. “Jesus that’s nerdy,” he accused.

“Why, are you there for Roman history?”

“Nah that’s Dick’s thing,” Ronan said, eyes dropping to Gansey’s lap with mirth in his gaze as Gansey rolled his eyes and shifted his body away slightly.

“And you?” Adam pressed.

Ronan shrugged, poked at his food again.

“_Ronan_,” Gansey started, as if chastising, “is a culture nerd, he’s studying literature and philosophy.”

“Jesus don’t go around telling people that.”

“But it’s true –”

“Ok well why is that less nerdy than linguistics?” Adam asked.

“_Linguistics_,” Ronan said, spitting out each syllable, “is studying for the sake of fucking studying man.”

Adam laughed. Tension left Gansey’s body and he smiled, too.

Adam Parrish had decided not to make any friends.

He shuffled his backpack over his shoulders and pulled a folded schedule out of his pocket. He rubbed blearily at his eyes, downed the end of his coffee and locked the door behind him, checking it twice.

It wasn’t exactly that he’d decided not to, but more that he accepted certain facts about himself. Firstly, that was he was here to study. He knew some people viewed college as an opportunity to make friends, experiment, let loose. He couldn’t see the value, had calculated how much of his tuition went on teacher salaries, on building upkeep, on electricity, on food. Didn’t want to waste a dime of it. Secondly, Adam was unlikeable.

It was chilly outside, north-east wind tickling Adam’s unfamiliar sun-kissed skin. He considered going back inside for his jacket. Would that make him look weak? He kept walking, adjusting his sweater over his hips.

_Likeability _had never been on Adam’s priorities. So it didn’t bother him particularly, how he’d never really had any friends. He’d hung out with a few people at lunch, in the library, had people to sit next to in classes, had people who asked to borrow his notes. But it was a shallow something, nothing he put any effort into, nothing that ended in invitations after school or on weekends; and even if they’d had he was busy hiding in his jobs, or in his bedroom, or away from his father’s words, riding his bike through Henrietta as he’d searched for streams, lines of trees, hedgerows. Once, the day after a particularly nasty word from his father had formed a purple bruise on one side of his face, he’d lain in the corner of a forgotten field, a rare hour where he’d allowed himself to just _breathe, Adam_, outlining shapes in the sky, and a cat had approached him shyly. It had circled him twice before sniffing his hand. Perhaps Adam’s hand had come down too hard on the cat’s soft body, but suddenly the cat scratched at his hand and ran off.

Unlikeable.

The fair was held in Robinson Court, and was to show off the various societies and fraternities at the university. Adam wasn’t planning on joining any, not really, but the fair was on the schedule he’d been given and, well. It was on his schedule.

Adam hadn’t seen Ronan and Gansey again that week. They only shared Latin, it seemed, and Adam had felt something calm settle into his bones when he’d gone to every other class to realise no one else would try to talk to him.

So when he approached the steps that would lead up to the raised court something like horror struck him at the sight of Ronan and Gansey, standing on the top step, Gansey’s hand on Ronan’s arm.

The first thing Adam thought was _I’m wearing the same thing I wore on Monday_, closely followed by, _I should just leave_.

Gansey turned and said, “Adam! Parrish!” and Adam did not leave. He climbed the last couple of steps, and fiddled with his backstraps. Gansey said, “Here for the society fair?”

“Yeh,” Adam said, then cleared his throat, “Yes.”

“Good for you,” Ronan muttered, not looking at either of them, “enjoy your tea party, I’m leaving.”

“Ronan come on,” said Gansey. It didn’t look like he was gripping Ronan’s arm very tightly, and Ronan didn’t seem to be making much effort to wriggle away. “We agreed. You come to the fair for one hour, and I let you drive my car this evening.”

“That seems like an easy trade,” Adam said, before he could stop himself.

Gansey looked at him. “You haven’t seen him drive.”

At this Ronan grinned, and something about it made Adam smile – he thought – maybe for the first time since, well, the last time he’d met them. It made him feel uncomfortable. Before he could take it back Ronan caught his eyes and said, “It’s a _ca-ma-ro_ man.”

“What year?”

Ronan’s face got all excited at that, his body jittery as he finally pulled his arm away from Gansey. “1973, you like cars man?”

“Nice,” Adam said to Gansey, watched as something like pride or unfiltered joy reached through Gansey’s face. “How long have you had it?”

“A few years,” he replied, the two falling into step as they discussed Gansey’s car – the Pig – and Ronan’s driving – atrocious. Ronan’s feet were right next to Adam’s.

“He’s an old man on the road, that doesn’t make my driving _atrocious_.”

“Ah,” said Adam. “Speed _limits _not _targets_, Lynch. How many tickets have you had anyway?”

Ronan’s hand waved this off. “That’s not the point.”

“I thought you said being disgustingly wealthy was boring.”

“It is,” Ronan agreed, not picking up the reasonable accusation that someone like Adam couldn’t afford to be so blasé with things like the law, or money, or property. Ronan’s voice was low, somewhere stuck between a monotone and a sing-song, and Adam flicked his eyes to him.

Someone jostled him from behind and Gansey reached out a hand to steady Adam’s shoulder, so he didn’t have time to tense his body, and although Gansey was frowning after the perpetrator, he thought Ronan saw him flinch.

“Fine let’s do the fucking fair man,” grumbled Ronan, reaching for Gansey’s arm and pulling him away from Adam. Adam pulled the straps higher on his shoulders, pulled down his sweater, and followed them.

For his part it was mostly observation. They all picked up leaflets for the _classics _society – though Ronan did so with a _look_ on his face – and Gansey spent ten minutes talking to the crew team. Opposite crew was a table covered in rainbows and glitter and pin badges. When Adam’s brain started tuning out the conversation about crew schedules and competitions, he turned his head to see Ronan being handed a badge with lots of colours on it, someone wearing a t-shirt that said _sounds gay I’m in _gesticulating to him wildly. Ronan merely nodded, slipped the badge into his pocket, and walked on.

Adam let his eyes land on the table, had started reading something about a social when _sounds gay I’m in _noticed him looking and said loudly, “Hi! How are you today?”

Adam froze, blinked, and a beat too late said, “Oh, I’m, um, oh yeh I’m good thanks, uh, no, I, uh, thanks but, sorry I have to go,” and practically ran after Ronan.

Ronan had escaped the maze of tables and was leaning against a bench, long limbs awkwardly splayed across the back, arms crossed in front of him. Having caught him up, Adam realised he hadn’t planned this far ahead. Ronan was picking at a scab on his forearm, long sleeves hitched above his elbows, and Adam was trying not to stare at the suggestion of biceps when he said, “So uh, do you think you’ll join any? Clubs?”

Ronan looked up at him. “Probably not. Gansey’s the one who wants to make friends.” Adam felt heat creep into his cheeks, assumed that to be the dismissal he’d been waiting for, when Ronan straightened and added quickly, “I mean, who needs to try that hard right? Not when you can bump into linguistics nerds wherever you turn. How many languages are you taking anyway?”

“Oh,” said Adam, scratching the back of his hand and trying to recover quickly, “just two.”

“Ok, if I guess the other language I’ll let you buy me lunch.”

Adam grinned. “No.”

“Ok _fine _I’ll buy you lunch. French?”

“Nope.”

“Spanish.”

“Nope.”

“German.”

“No, how many guesses do you get anyway?”

Ronan shrugged. “How many languages can there possibly be?”

Adam cocked his head. “In the US?”

Ronan scoffed. “Fucking _nerd_.” Adam looked away, smiling at the ground.

Gansey caught up to them before Adam escaped, asked for Adam’s number (Adam gave him his college email address instead) and they parted ways before lunch, Ronan failing to persuade Adam to join them – _try again Monday Lynch _– _suck my dick Parrish_.

The next morning, in a computer room, Adam closed his textbook and looked up societies on the college website. His fingers hesitated on the keyboard, and he typed and deleted and retyped _lgbt _in the search bar. _sounds gay I’m in_’s face appeared and Adam blinked, sitting back slightly. It was large and smiley, and underneath introduced him as Shane, the president. There was a social that evening, pizza and pool in one of the campus common rooms. Adam smiled, shook his head, closed the window, opened his textbook.

Adam wasn’t going to go. He wasn’t going to make friends, so there was no point. He wasn’t _here _to make friends. He wasn’t capable of it, and no one would want to talk to him. He wasn’t interesting, the only thing he could talk about was college, and so far he’d realised that wasn’t very popular. He wasn’t nice to look at, he didn’t smile at people, his clothes were second hand, he didn’t know where to put his hands in social situations.

There were many things Adam was happy to call himself. Mechanic. Valedictorian. Five foot ten. _Linguistics nerd. _Logical. Bisexual was so far down the list he very rarely contemplated its merits. It just seemed to him like something that made sense, but not something he ever acted on.

Adam checked his schedule again, as if to say _It’s not on your schedule._

The stupid thing was the nicest outfit he had, he’d already worn three times that week. Had managed to make the sweater stretch to three days, but didn’t think it would manage another outing. He ran a hand over the three shirts he owned, pulled out the charcoal grey one, and hummed a tune he didn’t know the name of in his head, drowning out his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is based off experience of UK universities, do american universities have freshers fairs? and interest-based societies? who knows, ya boys do though. who else hates walking into crowded places where you know no one? *raises hand* *adam raises hand* oh hey adam  
btw sounds gay i'm in is a real t-shirt i own it you could too it's on the internet somewhere you and i and all of us are welcome  
xxx


	2. Chapter 2

The common room had a few flags pinned up on the walls, one he knew and then a few variations. The lights were up and everything was too bright. There was a table with juice and snacks on it, and someone was opening boxes of pizza on the pool table, and Adam immediately wanted to turn round and leave. He stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Hi!” Shane’s face appeared in front of Adam, just as large and smiley as it had been on the website. “We met yesterday, right? So glad you came! What’s your name?”

Adam took a deep breath. “Adam.”

“Adam!” Shane smiled, and to Adam’s horror produced a name label. “Pronouns?”

“Uh, he?”

“Great,” Shane said, adding that too and then pressing the label to Adam’s chest, patting it down firmly. “Help yourself to a drink, Adam! Everyone here is really friendly, but there are a few people I can introduce you to –”

“Ok, thanks,” Adam interrupted, and beelined for the snacks table.

_God._

He slowly filled a cup with juice, and turned round, scanning the room. There were maybe 30 people there, he didn’t know if that was a good turnout or not, but it seemed like too many people to him. A few people stood in groups, laughing, some were in pairs, exchanging facts haltingly, a couple of eyes met Adam’s before he tore his gaze away.

And over in one corner, stood Ronan Lynch.

Adam looked away, and looked back again. He half-turned his body to the snack table. Put his cup down and picked it back up again. Should he approach? Try and talk to a few other people first? Maybe take Ronan a slice of pizza –

He looked back over at the corner and saw that Ronan was grinning at him, excusing himself from the people he had previously appeared to be listening to.

“Parrish,” he said once he reached Adam, abandoning his empty cup on the table.

“Hi,” said Adam, unsure where his voice had gone tonight.

“Thank god you’re here,” said Ronan, and his body relaxed next to Adam, almost melting into the wall as he ran a hand over his face.

Adam nodded. “Yeh, sure.”

“So…” Ronan looked awkward. He glanced at Adam’s label. “It’s cool you’re here, man.” Adam looked at Ronan’s. _Ronan, he/him._

“You too,” said Adam, feeling just as awkward.

Ronan looked at him seriously then, and Adam pulled at the end of his shirt sleeve. Was this the part where they were supposed to swap stories? Adam didn’t have any. Didn’t even like the taste of the word _bisexual _on his tongue. Wasn’t sure why he’d come, surely he didn’t belong here –

“Japanese?”

It took a second for Adam to work out what Ronan was talking about. When he did his felt his lips pull at his face and shook his head. “Japanese?”

“Well you look like you could be an anime nerd, no offence.”

“None taken, I’d be honoured to be an anime nerd,” Adam replied, “just don’t have the time.”

“Sure,” Ronan said, nodding seriously at this. “Italian?”

“Why would I study Italian?”

“Fuck if I know why the hell are you taking Latin?”

Now Adam was grinning, clutching his cup to his chest, leaning against the same wall. “_You _take Latin.”

“Sure, but –”

“Yeh, yeh, I know, fuckhead right?”

Ronan nodded solemnly and Adam laughed.

They talked a bit about Ronan’s other classes – intro to philosophy is fucking dumb man _of course the table is there _– and sharing a dorm with Gansey – I swear he takes his history textbook to the shower when he wanks – and his BMW – like a dream, man.

Adam didn’t even realise conversation was easy until it became uncomfortable. It was something about how Ronan checked his watch, and glanced around the room, and Adam was suddenly incredibly aware of how much of Ronan’s time he’d taken up. Before he had a chance to apologise and excuse himself, Ronan said, “So listen, Parrish, if I never guess what other language gets you off, that mean I can never take you to lunch?”

Adam had to think furiously to keep up with the meaning behind this rush of words. He was lost in the melody of Ronan’s voice, in the way he was looking away from him as he spoke, so it took him a couple of seconds to reply. “Oh,” he said, and then felt stupid, so added quietly, “well, a deal’s a deal.”

“Hmm.” Ronan turned to look at him, and a shy smile was on his face. “Well, a drink then?”

“I don’t really drink,” Adam said, on autopilot.

Ronan rolled his eyes, and moved his hand as if to shove at Adam’s shoulder, but at the last minute he ran it over his head instead. “Jesus, Parrish.”

“Sorry,” said Adam, not knowing what he was apologising for.

“No, I –” started Ronan, and ran his hand over his face. “I don’t care that you don’t drink – I was just – I was just trying to ask you out.”

“Oh,” Adam said again, and looked at the floor. _God. Say something. Fuck._

“Hey,” Ronan said after a few seconds, “listen, it’s no problem. Sorry man, I didn’t mean to –”

“Yeah, ok.”

Ronan stopped abruptly, hand stilling on his buzzcut. “Yeah?” he repeated, unsure.

“Yeah,” said Adam, and found he was smiling at Ronan. “Ok.”

“Ok,” repeated Ronan, and grinned back. “Cool.” He laughed, an expel of breath. “Uh, I guess, I could get your email off Gansey?” Adam nodded. Ronan looked around the room, and checked his watch again. “I’m gonna fuck off, are you…?”

“Yeah,” said Adam, “this is pretty much my social quota for the day.”

Ronan hesitated, then shrugged at Adam, “I get you man. Being gay is so exhausting.” Adam laughed.

When Adam stopped off at the computer room on the way back to his dorm, he had an email from Ronan. It said: _really glad you went to soc. dont forget your latin homework. nerd._

Adam wrote back: _Obviously I’ve already done it. Waster. PS me too._

Adam walked up to the middle row and down to the far end, sat down, got out his notebook, his pen, his schedule. Left the schedule to the side. It was just a back up.

Like his first Latin class a week ago, he was first to arrive, but Ronan and Gansey arrived not long after, and Gansey gestured to Adam from the doorway. Adam ducked his head, and started scribbling in his notebook.

A few seconds later he felt something gangly leaning over him. The gangly something read, “_Red pen, second pillow case, something green like a plant._” He turned round to see Ronan smirking. “Is this a poem?”

Adam looked down at his words. “Shopping list,” he said.

“Exciting Monday night you got planned?” Ronan starting shucking off his bag to the floor, and his body into his seat. Adam smiled.

“Hello Adam,” said Gansey, and there was something too polite about his tone. He was _not _looking at Ronan.

“Hi Gansey,” said Adam. “Good weekend?”

“Yes,” agreed Gansey, nodding. “The Pig lives to see another day.”

Adam smirked as Ronan groaned, “You are so high fucking maintenance man, we drove to _Starbucks. _With your _girlfriend. _Not exactly the romantic evening with the Camaro I’d envisioned.”

Gansey went pink and Adam asked, “Girlfriend?”

“Well,” Gansey cleared his throat, “No, Ronan’s exaggerating. I met her at the decolonising reading group. She’s called Blue. She’s studying some anthropology, some bio sciences.” Gansey waved his hand around vaguely, but he was still smiling.

“She’s tiny,” added Ronan, as if that were an important fact that was being left out.

“She sounds… great,” said Adam, unsure what you were supposed to say about people’s not-girlfriends that you’d never met. “Maybe next time you can leave Ronan at home.”

“Rude,” scoffed Ronan. “I think you’ll find I’m great third-wheel company.”

Adam met Ronan’s eyes and said, “Oh sure, did you call her tiny to her face?”

“He called her _maggot._” Gansey glared at Ronan.

Ronan just rolled his eyes. “Hey, I think she liked it. We bonded, man.”

“She called you _asshole_.”

Adam coughed into his hand to hide his grin.

Gansey looked uncomfortable then, flicked his eyes to Ronan, and then look at Adam and said, “Hey but, you know, Lynch is such a good friend. Very generous. Bought us coffees. Extra large.”

Ronan stared at Gansey, dumbfounded, and Adam felt warmth crawling into his cheeks. “_Gansey_,” said Ronan slowly. “_Shut. Up._” But he said it with a grin on his face, shaking his head slowly, so Adam just grinned too, and Gansey hurriedly started scribbling something in his notebook, and Ronan caught Adam’s eye, so Adam looked at him for a few seconds, and turned away.

At the end of the class he heard Ronan rise quickly out of his seat and he leaned forward to take Adam’s pen out of his hand, carefully, so their hands didn’t brush, and he turned the page in Adam’s notebook back to his shopping list. Ronan wrote, “_Let Ronan drive. Buy housewarming present for asshole. Let him buy me one. Maybe a coffee too. Extra large. ;) ps 7pm? He’ll pick me up.”_

Adam’s insides were doing a squirmy thing and he hadn’t organised his thoughts enough to do anything but nod at his notebook, a small smile forming on his face as he re-read the words. Ronan said, “Cool,” and trailed after Gansey. But then he turned back and called out, “Mandarin?”

Adam shook his head, looked up at him. “Nope.”

Ronan groaned and walked off.

Adam was back in his dorm at 5pm. He hadn’t seen much of Daniel: Daniel seemed like a person who went clubbing a lot, and slept in other people’s dorms a lot, and Adam couldn’t bring himself to find that a shame.

Because he needed space to panic.

It was in the schedule. (In his mind, obviously; he hadn’t written down _5-6pm, panic, 6-7pm, get ready, 7-???pm, go on date. _But he knew the rough outline.)

He was going on a date. He didn’t know whether or not it was helpful to repeat this fact.

_Shit._

He had no one to blame but himself. He said yes when Ronan asked. He went to the lgbt social. He went to the society fair. He chose to go to college _in the first place_.

Adam pressed his face further into his pillow.

_Unlikeable_.

Adam shook his head and pushed himself up on his hands. “Stop it,” he murmured to himself. “Pointless.” He stood up and assessed his wardrobe, knowing what he would find. He couldn’t wear the grey shirt, or the navy sweater. Maybe a retro t-shirt, jeans, his denim jacket? Did Ronan seem like a casual clothes kind of guy? They were only going shopping. All he’d seen him wear so far were vest tops, long-sleeved black t-shirts, a grey cardigan at the lgbt social. All very stylish and monochrome. He stood still at his wardrobe for another five minutes, and then pulled the clothes out.

Why were they going _shopping. _How embarrassing. Adam could only buy the things on his list. He pulled it out his bag and checked it again, smiled when he read _Buy housewarming present for asshole_. He did some sums in his head and decided he didn’t care what it would cost him.

The smile faded.

The thing was, this wasn’t going to go well, and he knew it. It was nice that Ronan had asked. He’d probably only asked because, well, because Adam had shown up to the thing. The social. Had outed himself. That was probably the only reason. Adam would get a free ride to the store, Ronan would feel good about himself for one evening, then realise how uninteresting Adam was and they’d spend the year sitting on opposite sides of Latin.

Fine. That could be fine.

Adam took a deep breath, checked his watch, and left his dorm. He walked back in seconds later and stuffed his wallet into his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how many chapters will this be? who knows! some. :) xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> c/w at end of chapter

Adam jostled his leg up and down. He closed his eyes tight and noticed, idly, vibrations flit through his body. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. He felt briefly jealous of people who smoked cigarettes. He stilled his knee with one hand, inspected his uneven fingernails, the rough skin of his hands, the scar that ran from his wrist to the knuckle in his thumb. He uncurled the sleeve of his denim jacket, covered up his hands and took in a deep breath.

When he next opened his eyes his watch told him it was 6:55. The stone steps were cold underneath him but in the warm August air he was kind of relieved for the shock in temperature difference. He wondered how hot the sun was beating down in Virginia.

He heard Ronan’s BMW before he saw it, and a second later it screeched into place in front of Adam’s building. He hauled himself up, the sudden appearance of the thing alarming. It was only 6:57.

Ronan too hauled himself up and diagonal out his car, like he could barely bear to leave it. He held the door open and leaned back against it. Ronan smirked at Adam. “Parrish,” he said, with the audacity of someone who was wearing a leather jacket over a tank top and ripped jeans and knew just how good they looked in it. Adam actually gulped, then shook his head. Well if he hadn’t known he was bisexual _before_…

“Hey,” he managed to say then, smiled back. “Lynch. Thanks for uh, getting me. You didn’t… have to.”

Ronan shrugged, looked up at Adam’s building, then back at him. “You getting in?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Adam, and pulled tightly at the ends of his sleeves, gripping them in his fingers as he got in the passenger side.

“So,” said Ronan as he sped away from the curb, Adam holding tightly to the edge of his seat, “where do you wanna go? I looked it up, there’s a Target and a Walmart on the way out of town.”

“We don’t really have to go shopping,” Adam said slowly, considering. He stared straight out the window. “You know, it won’t be very exciting. I can’t promise to be, uh, fun.”

Ronan laughed, and Adam looked at him. “Parrish, come on, I don’t… I don’t care what we do.”

“Really?”

“Really, man. I’m just… uh… I mean I’m just glad you said yes.”

Adam’s entire face melted into a grin, and he relaxed against his seat. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, come on we could be going…” Ronan tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, shaking his head as he spoke. “We could be going _scuba diving _for all I care.”

Adam raised his eyebrows. “Is scuba diving really the worst thing you could think of?”

“Yes,” said Ronan fervently, nodding his head while he fiddled with some dials on the stereo. Something came blasting out too loud and he dialled it down a bit. The beat still thrummed against Adam’s chest. “I don’t trust the ocean.” Laughter _escaped _Adam in a quick fierce jolt, and suddenly everything, _everything _was worth it – standing awkwardly in a room of strangers, second guessing himself with Ronan, with his wardrobe, with himself – when Ronan turned his head and smiled at him.

“What –” Adam caught his breath through a grin, “what has the ocean ever done to you?”

Ronan shrugged. “Look it’s _huge_ and it can kill me and I wouldn’t be able to fight back, and there are fucking, like, creatures in there we don’t know anything about. Why the hell would I put me through that?”

Adam hummed quietly. “Sounds reasonable,” he said. “But you do know how to swim right?”

Ronan cleared his throat, looked embarrassed. “Sure,” he said nonchalantly, and Adam chuckled. “So uh… do you know how to swim?”

“What is this, first, uh, first date chat?” Adam smiled shyly, willing himself to go on. _This is ok._

“Well I don’t fucking know.” Ronan sounded angry but Adam was getting the impression this was just what Ronan sounded like when he was having fun. “What do you want me to ask you about? Why do you need a red pen anyway.”

Adam felt weirdly pleased that Ronan had remembered his shopping list. “For my notes. Like… don’t make fun but I have a system.”

“Of course you do nerd.” Adam shuffled in his seat but then Ronan said, “So tell me about your system. What’s red for?”

“Red’s for when I’ve come up with an opposing or better point later on that I want to annotate the first point with.”

Ronan shook his head, muttering, but he looked like he was fighting a grin. “Jesus,” he said finally. “Alright what about blue.”

“Well I write notes from the lectures in black,” Adam said.

“Naturally.”

“But blue pens are for whatever thoughts I have as the professors talk.”

“Fuck, I don’t even have thoughts _after _class.”

Adam shook his head. “That’s not true.”

“How would you know? You don’t know me. I could be the dumb fuckest kid here.”

“You could,” said Adam, “but you aren’t.”

“How do you know?” Ronan glanced at Adam.

Adam smiled. “Because I’m clever like that.”

And then they turned off the road and Ronan parked in the bay the furthest from any of the stores, turning his car into the space in one smooth movement.

Adam released the grip on his seat. “Well,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt. “I sort of see what Gansey meant.”

“Excuse fucking you?” Ronan looked affronted. “We’re here, aren’t we? Alive and unafuckingccosted by the law?”

“How are you so good at driving? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t think we ever once went below the legal speed limit, but you seem… pretty competent.”

Ronan scoffed, undid his seatbelt but just relaxed back in his seat, fiddling with his keys. “I dunno. I kinda fucking love this car man. I feel uh… different, when I’m in it. When it’s just me and her. Better.”

“Well, sorry for intruding then.”

“No,” Ronan said quickly, shaking his head. “That’s – she’s pleased you’re here.”

It was such an absurd thing to say Adam couldn’t help but laugh. He hoped Ronan knew it wasn’t a mean laugh. Said, “I can _technically _drive but I don’t have much practice, mostly rode my bike around town, got the plane up here.” He shrugged.

“Maybe I can help you out with some practise, let you drive the BMW sometime.” The way Ronan said it was all casual, but Adam felt heat glide over his skin. “Come on, let’s get you that fucking pillow case.”

They got out the car and walked together, a few metres apart, until they were barely anything apart, until Ronan was asking quietly, “Hey Adam, can I ask you something kind of weird?”

Adam blinked up at him, stuffed his hands in his pockets, shrugged. “Sure. What?”

“So, I got the impression you don’t really like… uh… being touched?”

Adam hadn’t been expecting it, and because he hadn’t been expecting it, he felt walls go up immediately. No, he didn’t feel them go up – it was the sudden and complete _absence_ of feeling that got him. He wasn’t sure what expression was on his face, but he figured it was kind of blank, so it was surprising when Ronan’s was mild panic. “I’m not – I wasn’t going to ask – I just wondered…” Ronan moved tentative fingers towards Adam’s arm, tugged on his sleeve gently. “I just wanted to know how much you wanted.”

Adam had… no one had _ever_… but that probably wasn’t true. He thought back to – Shelley? He thought her name was Shelley but sometimes all he could remember was her surname, Holyfields, and snatches of conversation _I wanna… is this ok? _and sunlight beating off her hair –

“Parrish?”

“Mm.”

“Can we just… can you sit a sec?” Ronan’s fingers were still in Adam’s denim jacket, and he tugged so lightly Adam barely felt it, but he realised he was being steered towards a bench between storefronts so he moved obediently, sat, blinked at the sun coming down from the sky until he felt breath in his fingertips, enough to pull uncertainly at the ends of his sleeves, to tug them over his dry hands.

“Right,” said Ronan slowly. He breathed out, long and hard, and Adam glanced at him. “So uh, easier questions first huh? I mean you can’t blame me for wanting to uh… no sorry that’s…” Ronan shook his head, ran a hand over his head.

Adam felt sorry for him, had to save him. “I can swim, just so you know.”

Ronan looked up, surprised. Then he grinned. “Well that makes one of us,” and then Adam smiled too.

“Maybe I can teach you,” he said, still quiet, but leaning back into the bench as _feeling_ returned very gently, as he felt his body relax more with every word, “trade a skill for a skill.”

“Nope, not a fucking chance in fucking _hell_,” Ronan said, and he leaned back too, watching the sky. Adam watched the side of Ronan’s face, until Ronan turned back towards him. Then he held out two closed fists, one eyebrow raised.

“You gonna do a magic trick, Lynch?”

“Shush,” said Ronan, waving his fists around in some absurd motion, moving them behind his back and then out again. “Pick one.”

Adam shook his head lightly, but he pointed at Ronan’s left hand. Ronan opened his fist, revealing a very empty palm, and gaped at it. “Well whaddya know you randomly selected Walmart get the fuck up.” He stood up and moved away quickly.

Adam grinned, and rushed after Ronan.

In the bedding aisle Adam had to have a very stern conversation with Ronan. “I am not buying a My Little Pony pillowcase set.”

“Why not? Are you afraid of who you are?”

“Who I am,” Adam said with disdain, taking it out of the cart for the second time and placing it back on the shelf, “is not something represented by My Little Pony.”

“Jesus,” Ronan muttered, “way to be afraid of your fragile masculinity. Oh no wait,” and then he rushed off, picking up a second set of bedding, waving it front of Adam’s face. “_Batman. _I bet that’s more your thing yeh? He’s very manly Parrish. He can turn into a _bat_. Or his best friend is a bat or something I dunno.” He tossed it into the cart and started looking for other sets. Adam smiled, picked up the Batman set and placed it back on the shelves.

“Honestly I was just going to get whatever was cheapest.”

Ronan let out a long suffering sigh. But to Adam’s surprise he started looking at the prices. “Ok look well you could get this plain fucking _white _pillow case set for like three dollars but if you let me chuck in a dollar we can get you _butterscotch yellow._” Ronan looked up from where he was peering at the name, held up the set in question, looked shyly at Adam. “Yeh?”

Adam took the set from Ronan, considered it. It was a lovely bright shade of yellow, and for some reason it made him smile. “Fine,” he said, placing it in the cart, ignoring Ronan’s victory whoop, “but I’m not wasting my housewarming present on this. I’ll pay for it. You can get me something else.”

“Whatever,” Ronan had already started walking off, his brain moving onto something else, and Adam had to rush to keep up. “Pens. Pens…” He looked up until he saw the sign for _Stationery_, placed one hand on Adam’s cart and steered them in that direction. “How many red pens do you need?”

“Oh,” said Adam, “uh, just one?”

Ronan shook his head. “Boring _and _amateur. You need at least two. Gel pens?” He picked up a red glitter gel pen, found a pad and wrote _Hello my name is Adam I’m a nerrrrrd._ “Works great.”

Adam picked up a red biro and wrote _Hello my name is Ronan I’m very tall._

“Is that… is that supposed to be a fucking insult?”

Adam shrugged.

Ronan wrote _Hello my name is Adam and I have no idea how cute I am._

He threw the pen in the cart, and walked off. Adam, stunned, touched a hand to his cheek, willing his face to cool down, picked up the pen from where it had fallen through a slot in the ground, and replaced it with two of the red biros.

When he reached the end of the aisle Ronan didn’t look at him as he said, “What’s next? A plant?”

Adam shook his head. “To be honest I don’t really like plants. I only wrote that because you and Gansey were walking over and I uh…” He scratched at the back of his neck.

Ronan gave him a knowing look and smirked. “Ok.” He shrugged. “Presents then?”

“Ten dollar limit?” suggested Adam, hoping Ronan would accept this without question. He didn’t want to be ungenerous, ungiving, uncaring, but –

“Sure, meet you out front,” said Ronan, walking backwards from Adam before turning and disappearing into an aisle.

And then Adam panicked. _Housewarming present. For Ronan. _He pushed his cart through the centre aisle. He didn’t know much about Ronan. He liked cars. And Latin. And being gay. And uh… Adam, maybe.

Twenty minutes later Adam paid for his items and leaned against the wall outside. The sun had dipped low in the sky now, and he felt half-light tickle at his cheeks, half-closed his eyes and breathed deep.

Ronan appeared in front of him. “Parrish,” he said shortly, before throwing a bag at his chest. Adam stumbled, caught it, opened it up, fully prepared for whatever stupid…

There were three objects inside. “Did you cheat?” he asked. Ronan was silent. Adam reached inside and pulled out a jar of maple syrup. It was… “Maple syrup… from Luray? Are you kidding?” Adam looked at Ronan. “Why are they even selling this here?”

Ronan shrugged. “It was the only bottle, heavily discounted. Snobs,” he added darkly.

Adam reached back inside. A thin book. He pulled it out, and laughed. “A Room of One’s Own. Virginia Woolf.” He looked up at Ronan, who had been watching him carefully but now looked away.

The last item was a very small teddy bear. “She’s called Virginia,” Ronan said quickly, still turned away from Adam.

Adam stroked his thumb across the soft fur. “Is she now,” he said. “What a coincidence, eh?”

“Yeh,” said Ronan, “but I asked and that’s what she said. What can you do.”

Adam looked at Ronan looking at the sky and had no idea what to say. He settled on, “Thank you,” but it came out quiet, a little unpractised, and Ronan turned to him, and just said,

“You’re welcome gimme my present.”

Adam grinned, and rolled his eyes. He picked up his bag from the cart, left the pillowcase set and pens at the bottom, and threw an object at Ronan’s chest. “Merry Christmas,” he said.

He’d found a snowglobe that was also a music box, that had what looked like tiny autumn leaves instead of snowflakes, and that played the tune of _Take me Home, Country Roads, _and Ronan was clearly delighted. “Fuck,” he said, turning the little cog quicker now he understood what the prize was gonna be. The first notes of the chorus tinned out of tiny speakers, and as Ronan shook the snowglobe to unearth the tiny leaves the tune faltered before blearing out again. Autumn raised inside the globe and slowly blanketed a small house. He grinned at Adam. “Fuck,” he said again.

“It’s awful?”

“Gansey will _hate you._”

“Oh dear,” said Adam. “Coffee?”

Ronan really did buy them both extra large coffees, and fries (and when Adam tried to insist buying at least his, Ronan brushed it off with _you can get it next time_) and they leaned against the BMW, their take out dinner resting on the hood, talking while the sun dipped slowly below the skyline, until Adam shivered lightly, tugging his jacket around him.

“Hey, can I –” Ronan considered, then lifted his arm in question. Adam, in what felt to him like a curiously bold move, shuffled immediately to close the few inches between them and placed himself firmly against Ronan’s side. Ronan lowered his arm hesitantly, and let it fall lightly over Adam’s shoulders.

Adam looked away, folded his arms, picked at the frayed edges of his sleeves. He felt…warm, and part of him wondered what he could possibly have done to deserve this, but Ronan was _warm_, but he didn’t think he’d been very interesting, had Ronan really enjoyed this? Adam had, but then Ronan was everything Adam was not. He was _fast_ and reckless and thoughtful and funny and _warm_. Ronan was –

“Parrish?” Ronan asked, hesitant. “This ok?”

Adam managed to nod. “This is ok,” he said, and was surprised to discover it was true. He looked up, not realising how close this would put their faces. “You’re very warm,” Adam said quietly, and was mortified as the words left his mouth.

But Ronan was looking at him softly, something like wonder in his eyes. He said, “You’re so sweet," like he was trying out the words on his tongue, like he thought they were true, and lifted a hand slowly, where Adam could see it, brushed a thumb over his cheekbone.

Adam tensed up. “Ok,” he said, and if Ronan could tell that everything in Adam was on fire he was polite enough not to mention it. “I should probably… is it ok if we head back?”

Ronan nodded, even smiled, as he withdrew from Adam and tidied up wrappers and cups. Adam clenched his hands into fists, stretched his fingers out, shoved his hands in his pockets and climbed in the car. Ronan had wandered off to find a bin so Adam closed his eyes, counted to ten, opened his eyes again as he heard Ronan climb in.

Ronan pulled away without saying anything, and they didn’t speak the whole ride back. When he pulled up outside Adam’s dorm he just said, “Parrish, you ok?”

“Yeah,” said Adam quickly, he was five seconds away from a panic attack, but he didn’t want Ronan to know that, didn’t want Ronan to feel like it was his fault. “Thanks for… everything.”

He risked a glance at Ronan, who was still smiling at him. It made Adam feel worse. Ronan’s smile turned into a grin as he said, “Gansey’s going to _really fucking hate_ that snowglobe Parrish. _Thank you._”

Adam managed to smile back. “He can give me the review next Monday.” Opened his door.

Ronan reached out a hand and Adam _flinched._

A second beat past them in which both parties were trying to decide whether or not to mention it. Ronan simply lowered his hand and said, “I’ll email you. Do you wanna… can I see you before then?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Adam said, “I’ll email you too. We’ll… yeah. Ok bye!” and he stood up, tight and on fire, and closed the door, and he was _on fire,_ and he walked up the steps to his building, and half-turned, and waved at the car, and opened the door, walked up four flights of stairs, flung himself inside his dorm.

“Daniel?” he gasped into the room, because suddenly breathing was difficult, and out of nowhere he was _fucking furious_, and Daniel didn’t reply, so he _threw _his bag across the room, but all it did was bounce gently off the carpet, so he picked up the nearest glass and smashed it against the wall.

Shards made constellations in the carpet. A few drops of water trickled slowly down the wallpaper. Adam sat in a heap on the floor, and ran his hands through his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content note: panic attack, anger issues
> 
> author note: :(


	4. Chapter 4

Sunlight hit Adam’s face, and he woke up. He opened his eyes, let his gaze fall into his pillow for a few more seconds before squinting his eyes up to the offending uncurtained window. “Daniel?” he murmured.

His room mate was bustling around. “Oh, sorry Adam,” Daniel replied, a stagewhisper, and Adam closed his eyes again as sunlight was drawn away from the room.

The rest of that week felt like a dream Adam didn’t want to live. He was dimly aware that a good person would check his emails, see if Ronan had sent him one, send something back, something encouraging and kind and _I promise I’m not a weirdo_.

But Adam wasn’t a good person, and there was a certain calmness in knowing that and deciding not to do anything about it.

On Friday Adam skipped breakfast, took coffee to his first class, took ten pages of notes in his second class, contemplated skipping his third.

In the end he sat outside the building, a heap of body on grass too soft against hard skin.

He wondered if Ronan had emailed him yet.

Closed his eyes.

Everything was _hot shame._

He curled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on top. Watched students walk by for the five minutes leading up to the start of class, and when everything had emptied he laid his head back, resting on his backpack, and promptly fell asleep.

“Adam?”

Adam woke with a start to Gansey leaning over him. He blinked, and then sat up quickly. “Oh,” Adam said. “Hi, I – uh I guess I fell asleep.”

“Sure,” said Gansey, nodding, and Adam swirled round on the grass to see Ronan standing next to him. Ronan looked at him quickly and away again.

Adam knew he wasn’t a good person, so he didn’t have to say anything to Ronan. Ideally would just let him walk away. Adam had been a bad date, had left in a weird rush, had _smashed a glass against the wall shards in the carpet and stain on the paper, _had not emailed afterwards.

But, “Hi, Ronan.”

Ronan looked at him, no change in expression, then at Gansey.

Adam realised then Gansey was giving Ronan a _look_. Adam had no idea what it was, but it was clearly communicating something they both already knew, something that maybe Gansey thought but Ronan didn’t agree with, from the way Ronan’s jaw tightened, and the glare he was sending his friend.

Eventually he looked back at Adam and, without smiling, said, “Uh, can I talk to you a sec?”

Adam was nodding before he decided whether the answer was yes. Gansey cleared his throat and said, “I’ll see you back at the dorm, good to see you Adam,” smiling at him kindly before striding off.

Before Adam could get up Ronan slumped in a heap in front of him.

Adam picked up a blade of grass, twirling it in his fingers, picking bits off, starting sentences in his head with words like _look_, or _listen, Ronan_, but then Ronan said,

“I’m sorry.”

Adam looked up at him sharply. Felt all breath leave his body. “What?”

Ronan met his eyes once then looked away. “I… I’m _really _sorry, I think I fucked up, I know you didn’t have a good time on Monday, and I didn’t mean to push you I mean, God, I knew you didn’t like uh, to be touched and – and then you ran out the car like, like you couldn’t get away fast enough and…” He sighed, with his eyes closed. “So like fuck it, whatever man, no big deal, but I just wanted to say sorry, and Gansey –” here he stopped to wave his hands in the air, quoting around words that were clearly Gansey’s, the ghost of a smile on his face – “very much hopes the three of us can remain friends.” He dropped his hands, and at this point looked at Adam.

Adam was still frowning, and words weren’t coming to him fast enough. Ronan was _apologising_. He was – he thought –

“No,” said Adam, shaking his head, utterly bewildered. Ronan was – it was _Adam _who –

“Oh, yeah. Ok,” Ronan said, clearing his throat, and looking away. Adam cycled back through the conversation and realised what he’d said.

“No no,” he said again, quicker, “no I didn’t mean that. I – the no was – you have nothing to apologise for. I –” He struggled for something to say. Was horrified when words continued not to come, when Ronan was looking at him like – “You have nothing to apologise for,” Adam said again, voice quiet. 

Ronan pursed his lips together. “Yeah? ’Cause, I mean, it seemed like –”

“I had a good time,” Adam said. “You – it’s not –” He let out a small frustrated moan and shook his head, looking away.

“Ok,” said Ronan, sitting up straighter. “It’s ok, you don’t have to…” he faltered, and then paused, as if gathering himself up. “Ok,” he said again, stronger, slower. “So, you weren’t ignoring me this week?”

“Shit,” Adam said softly, and looked back at Ronan. “I’m sorry, not on purpose – I mean, I guess I haven’t checked my emails… I sort of… checked out.” This seemed like an admission too far, or like he was asking for forgiveness, like he had any sort of defence, like he was worth looking at the way Ronan was looking at him, like an enigma he would be happy to spend time solving. Adam wasn’t worth the time, but he didn’t know how to _tell _Ronan that.

“Ok,” Ronan said again. He seemed to be coming back to himself now, legs crossed underneath him, nodding as Adam spoke, not smiling but the frown gone and something like energy behind the lines on his face. “So… are we cool? I mean… do you still wanna… go out. With me. Again. Sometime?” It sounded like the clarity and vulnerability of the sentence physically hurt Ronan to choke out, and Adam would have grinned if it wasn’t for –

“Do _you _want to?” He frowned.

“Um, fucking _yes_,” Ronan said, and his hands were clenching and unclenching on his knees, and Adam saw him glance at Adam’s hands, and something in Adam’s chest _tightened_, “If you’d read your fucking emails,” he mumbled.

And then Adam did grin. “Yeah? So maybe I should go read them now.”

Ronan groaned then. “Oh fuck,” he said. But he was grinning, and something had lifted straight out of the air and Adam could breathe and he found a hundred words he wanted to say to Ronan, but Ronan was saying, “Look, don’t hold it against me man, you’re…” he gestured, as if that would explain it.

“So are you,” Adam said, looking straight into Ronan’s eyes. Ronan’s face softened and his grin slipped away. “I’m sorry I didn’t check my emails. I want to go out again. I really, I really liked hanging out with you. I think you’re really – cool, and nice, and… I’m sorry I was – weird –”

“Don’t be sorry, really,” Ronan said, and it should have been embarrassing, how they were tripping over each other, but Adam felt something explode into his fingertips and he twitched them against his knee, and he couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed.

“Ok,” he said.

Ronan rubbed a hand over his head. “Hey, do me a favour and tell Gansey you think I’m _nice_ I think it’ll make his fucking week.”

Adam threaded his fingers together, making a decision. He stood up and said, “Walk me home?”

Ronan looked like he’d been offered _the moon_. “Yeh,” he said, getting up too and walking alongside each other.

“Why do you guys act like Gansey’s your dad?” Adam had been curious about their relationship, didn’t know anything except they’d gone to school together, had known each other years.

Ronan paused, so Adam remained quiet, looking away. “I dunno,” he said, like he did, “it’s the sort of story that’s more like, third date material?”

Adam smiled. “Ok, do you wanna give me the child friendly version?”

“Well that’s easy, Gansey’s a _philanthropist_ who needs to look after people to feel good about himself.”

“Sure. And you?”

“Me what?”

Adam shrugged his backpack higher onto his shoulder. “That explains why Gansey acts like that, why do you let him?” Adam looked at Ronan to see his lips pursed tightly together. “Sorry, is this the part that’s third date material?”

Ronan shrugged. “He uh… I dunno. He’s my brother.” He didn’t elaborate, so Adam didn’t press it.

Instead, he looked down to where their hands were hanging as they walked. Wondered… but he didn’t want to push himself.

“At some point,” Ronan started carefully, and then stopped. He scratched the back of his neck, and Adam stared at his feet as they walked, hating this entirely. “If you wanted to… could you tell me…”

“Yeah,” said Adam quietly. “At some point. Maybe.”

“Ok,” said Ronan, and Adam felt a huge burst of gratitude that he was accepted that easily. He felt wonder. “So, maybe you should just be – in charge of that stuff?” He gestured vaguely.

Adam didn’t look this time, but reached out his hand and slotted his fingers between Ronan’s. He took a deep breath. “Ok?” he asked, looking up at Ronan. They’d stopped walking.

Ronan squeezed the tips of his fingers incredibly lightly. “Yeh, Parrish,” he said, and smiled. “That’s ok.”

At Adam’s building Ronan turned to him and let go of his hand before saying, “Look I don’t want to seem _clingy_ –”

“Do you wanna get breakfast together tomorrow?” Adam asked quickly.

Ronan’s _entire face _lit up and Adam could swear to god – but instead he just grinned back. “Yeah sure,” Ronan said, shrugging and letting his grin fade slightly, “whatever.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Sure, _whatever_,” he repeated, and grinned.

The first thing Adam did the next day – after the obligatory wardrobe panic and coffee ingestion – was walk to the computer room and check his emails. He took in a deep breath. Ronan hadn’t asked him _not to _and honestly he couldn’t just not check his emails anyway, was already worried he might have missed something important from college. And maybe they wouldn’t be so bad, wouldn’t be too critical of him, or too nice, or miss the point, or – _just open it._

Ronan Lynch  
Monday  
10:49pm

Hey man hope you got home ok. ha. ha. Look do you wanna do something tomorrow maybe? I dunno what your schedule is like this week, we didn’t really get that far. Meeting you was, yeh, the best part of my week so. Anyway let me know, whatever.

Ronan Lynch  
Tuesday  
5:35pm

Parrish how dare you make a man wait this long. You been reading too many hetero romance novels? Playing hard to get is pretty last century, dunno if you got the memo. Call me gay but I don’t really care how much I’m embarrassing myself, maybe we can hang later this week? Cool.

Ronan Lynch  
Wednesday  
11:24pm

I wouldnt mind so much if you weren so fucking nerdy and prretty eeeeeeeeerrrrrrrughhhhhhhhhhh

Ronan Lynch  
Wednesday  
11:29pm

Oh

Fuck

Ronan Lynch  
Thursday  
08:11am

Oh shit, Adam, I’m sorry man – I was a bit drunk last night, no excuse for harassing you. Sorry, I will leave you alone – I’m sorry if I fucked up on Monday. If you wanna talk some time that’d be good. But it’s cool. See you in Latin? Gansey says hi. -Ronan.

Adam stared at the screen for another five minutes as _shame _and _loathing _poured over his body like prickles of nausea. He sat back in seat, and folded his arms over his chest.

_Ok_, he thought. And then he thought. And he thought.

This was stupid. Adam had to walk quickly, because he’d stayed at the computer room too long, and he was worried Ronan would be mad he was late. They were only meeting at the diner up the road from the main campus entrance, so it wasn’t far, but.

It felt good to be rushing because Adam didn’t feel like he had any more time to analyse.

And anyway, the only conclusion he’d come to that he felt he knew was a truth, beyond doubt, was that he had no idea what he was doing.

But that he wanted to do it anyway.

Ronan was there already, standing like he was conscious of his height, shoulders bent over slightly, frowning down at his shoes as they scuffed the ground.

“Hi,” Adam said, slightly breathless, and Ronan looked up, “sorry I’m late.”

Ronan grinned. “That’s cool,” he said, and then, “hey,” still grinning.

Adam smiled. “Hey.”

Ronan held open the door and didn’t walk through, one eyebrow raised. Adam rolled his eyes and walked past Ronan into the diner. “I thought we were beyond cliché _hetero romances_.”

Ronan paused as he came through the door, and when he continued he groaned, “Parrish the least you could have fucking done is read them _and then never mention it. _Jesus were you raised in a barn?”

“Thought that was you,” Adam replied, arms crossed, pretending to read the menu at the hostess stand. Ronan signalled for a table for two and they were seated at a small booth at the back. Adam slid in and Ronan slumped opposite him.

“Ok well… is that it?” Ronan asked cautiously. “No like… objections or… _asshole remarks._” He waited, as if it was a genuine question.

Adam wanted to say _I don’t understand how you can think that about me_, but instead he said, “Nope, we’re good,” and smiled at Ronan. He had never wanted to make someone happy before, and the idea that he’d tortured Ronan for five days unnecessarily, because he’d been selfish, was… appalling, and, wasn’t doing anything to help the niggling in his stomach, but. He really wanted this, this smiling Ronan, Ronan chatting happily about school and Virginia and Gansey.

“Gansey misses you,” Ronan said at one point, rolling his eyes.

“We’ve met like four times,” Adam said, but he was smiling.

“Yeh well he’s a bit like that,” grumbled Ronan, poking at his pancakes. “He’s fucking clingy as all hell, and once he gets you he doesn’t really let go.”

Ronan glanced at Adam at that, and looked away again, so Adam said, “Noted,” and tried to make it sound strong and sure.

Ronan smirked at his pancakes and said, “So what about you? Me and Gansey are pretty much pathetic, we’d like die for each other but that’s ’cause we’re all we have? What are your friends like?”

_Ah_, thought Adam. _Ok._ “I, uh, don’t really have any friends,” Adam said, and tried to smile, shrugged it off like it was just one of those things.

“Ok,” said Ronan, and Adam suddenly really hated how patient and understanding Ronan was, had to be, with him.

“You don’t think that’s weird?” Adam asked, and Ronan looked up at him, alert.

“Uh,” he said slowly. “Is that a trick question?”

Adam looked away, and _what the hell was he doing_. He took a deep breath and said, “No, sorry. I’m being – it’s just pretty embarrassing right?”

“What’s embarrassing?”

“Come on, Ronan,” he said, annoyed that Ronan was being obtuse about this.

“No, I don’t – come on what?” Ronan was frowning.

“It’s embarrassing because I – you know – look it’s ok to admit that I’m not like…” Adam’s words were slipping away again, and it was maddening because he wanted to explain this to Ronan, felt like this was his way in for Ronan to get it – to make sure he knew. “I’m not the – easiest person to – like,” he managed, slowly.

And Ronan froze. Lowered his fork slowly to his plate, leaned on his elbows on the table. Frowned at Adam. “Adam what – what does that mean?”

“It’s ok,” said Adam, but he couldn’t meet Ronan’s eyes. “I know I’m difficult, and I like kinda boring stuff, and I can be really patronising. You haven’t known me long but…” He blinked because his eyes felt scratchy. “I’m pretty selfish. I worked extra jobs during school and kept most of the money. I’m a snob, and I’m patronising,” Adam’s vision was blurry and he rubbed his eye. “And like it’s ok, I’ve made my peace with this shit no one’s fucking perfect but you should fucking _know_.”

Adam lowered his hands and took a few deep breaths and felt immense pride that he hadn’t cried. That was one thing he wasn’t anymore – a wuss.

Ronan wasn’t saying anything and Adam was fiddling with the ends of his sleeves, pulling his jacket as far over his hands as they would go. Ronan reached his hands out slowly but just placed them on the table in front of Adam’s. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Why do you do that?”

Adam was lost. “Why do I do what?”

“You pull your sleeves over your hands. Is that like… a nervous thing?”

Adam looked down at his hands, lost. “I dunno, I don’t think so,” he said, removing his hands from the table and putting them under his knees. “I didn’t think it was a thing I did.”

Ronan said, “So, all that stuff you just said.”

Adam shook his head. “Did I also mention I was a terrible date?” He smirked.

But Ronan just frowned at him. “Who said all that to you?”

Adam’s body tightened, and his hands no longer felt safe under his legs but trapped, like his body was too big for the table, too big for the conversation. “No one,” he said.

“You just, know all that stuff about you. That you’re… selfish, and boring, and patronising…”

“Ronan, stop.” Ronan stopped. “I’m sorry. This is – I didn’t mean to – can we talk about something else?”

Ronan considered for a minute. Then he let out a breath Adam hadn’t noticed he was holding. “Sure, Parrish, fuck,” he muttered quietly. “Under one fucking condition – I don’t agree with any of that.” He looked him dead in the eye and Adam started to look away but Ronan moved down the booth, following his eyeline until he’d left his side and was sat next to him and Adam had to scoot back slightly to avoid their knees touching. “We don’t have to talk about this right now, but I don’t fucking agree with any of that. I am stating it for the record. Clear as fucking day. And now we can move on. Ok?” He held Adam’s gaze so Adam nodded.

“Great,” said Ronan, and he sounded angry, and it didn’t sound like the kind of angry like he was having fun.

Adam looked down at his plate, poked his last remaining sausage with his fork, half-heartedly ate the end of it, put his fork back down and his hands in his lap. Thought he felt tears prick at his eye so blinked hard, looking away from Ronan.

“Let’s just go,” said Ronan, and stood up from the table abruptly. He paid and they left.

Outside Adam said, “It was my turn to pay.”

Ronan said, “You can pay next time,” and held out his hand. Adam frowned at it, but reached for it with his own, let Ronan tug him gently back to campus.

When Adam checked his email that night he had one from Ronan. It just said

Hey, thanks for suggesting breakfast today. Lunch tomorrow? Just joking, I know you can’t stand me two days in a row and anyway I haven’t earned lunch yet. Have I guessed French yet? Fuck I think I have. Swedish Icelandic Norwegian Danish? Maybe you’re a mythology nerd.

Anyway I just wanted to say. You have no idea what I see.

Later Parrish x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(  
ao3 needs the tag "adam parrish deserves love"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: brief discussion of suicide attempt

In the end, minutes spent fingers fiddling with the worn ends of his denim jacket, Adam had just written back

Is it weird if I say I’m actually impressed with how many languages you can come up with? And no, I’m not a Scandinavian mythology nerd, that sounds like more your thing. (Would actually like to hear about it some time, all I know is Thor and Loki got into some interesting stuff.) Still waiting on that free lunch.

What are you doing tomorrow? I’ll come back to the computer room in the morning to work on a essay, but I think I’ll be free after lunch. I’ll be here so I can read your email. So yeah let me know. You can write to me, I’ll get it. Ok! See you tomorrow maybe.

Adam

As Adam’s head hit the pillow – Daniel was out again, it _was _a Saturday night and Adam guessed that was probably normal college behaviour – after a day of working on essays and reading and writing a schedule for his coursework and getting dinner from the cafeteria when he realised he’d skipped lunch, and not thinking about Ronan – as he rubbed his sore eyes against a soft butterscotch yellow pillow case he let himself remember Ronan’s words just once – _you have no idea what I see _– before he felt his tired body drift off to sleep.

Adam had always been good with motivation – it was usually about caring so entirely about the thing that there was no choice other than to do it. But goals helped too. The next morning he wrote 500 words of his Intro to American History paper before letting himself check his emails. Ronan had written one last night, just after Adam’s.

Wow an email from you I’m honoured.

(Ok I felt like this whole situation deserved sarcasm but I’m not really mad, I’m really pleased you emailed me. yay.)

Jesus you could have just asked for a bedtime story Parrish. Or I suppose a good morning story? Anyway. So Odin is really into poetry man, thinks it’s like the source of or expression of wisdom or something. He’s a hardcore dude who literally (ok not literally it’s a fucking metaphor) hung himself from a tree for nine nights in the pursuit of wisdom. ??? Awesome. They’ve got beer that turns you into a poet? Like the Mead of Poetry, I’m not even making this up. Whatever read a fucking book.

What essay are you writing? Bet you $1 you can’t make me interested in it. I _bet you_. Are you a coward??

Yeh I’m free tomorrow, guess I’ll have to eat lunch by myself :( what do you wanna do after that? We could go for a drive. You feeling brave?

Ronan x

Adam smiled, checked his watch. It was only 10am and he was doing really well on his essay. Wrote back

You’re right that’s pretty awesome. How am I not surprised that Odin’s a hero of yours? Do you like poetry too?? So many hidden depths beneath that leather jacket.

I refuse to take that bet, because my essay is not interesting and nothing I can do will change that. Honestly, I really enjoy a lot of topics – Latin is so much fun, like learning how these dead words were built and hung together by an ancient society, and language is just problem solving, I like that. Maths is the same. I like working out how things _work_. I think I might want to go into engineering. I worked as a mechanic during high school. It’s why I’m taking lots of science classes as well. But _American history_. It’s _history_, Ronan. As in, no longer relevant. Eurgh. Anyway I guess I’m writing about civil rights because it was the only topic I could fathom caring about, and I’m linking it to some stuff about the patriot act and some stuff on the cultural etymology of the word terrorism and basically have decided to turn what’s suppose to be a history essay into a rant about racism. But I’ll make it work, I’m good at tricking teachers. Ha. Anyway. I’m not giving you a dollar.

I’m in Computer Lab B. Pick me up at 2pm?

Adam (god you’re such a sap xx)

Ronan wrote back, a few minutes later, just saying

Okay I’m emailing when I shouldn’t be and I’m gonna get in trouble but I just had to say can you please not guess what’s beneath my leather jacket it’s a fucking Sunday and you were a _mechanic?? are you kidding me??? _and do you still have the overalls

2pm

Ronan xx ( 😊 )

By 1pm Adam had written 1,500 words, proofread it all, and tucked his books away into his bag. He ate his sandwich while scrolling aimlessly through wikipedia.

At 1:55 he made his way outside, leaned against the wall, held a hand to his forehead to block out the sunlight, watched as a figure approached.

“No leather jacket?” Adam said, lowering his hand.

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Ronan said, grinning. He was wearing a short-sleeved grey t-shirt over worn jeans and it was nothing special, but Adam’s breath still hitched slightly on its way out. “Don’t wanna give off the impression I’m too cool for poetry.”

Adam pushed away from the wall and grabbed Ronan’s hand straight away. “Where’s your car?”

Ronan squeezed Adam’s fingers, started walking. “Back at the dorm. You wanna say hi to Gansey first?”

“Sure,” said Adam, and it was so easy, walking next to Ronan, and he realised he didn’t feel nervous. Ronan made him feel so calm and he had no idea why.

Ronan stuck his free hand in his pocket and held out a dollar. “I hate you. Tell me about the cultural etymology of the word terrorism.”

Adam, who had never taken anything he hadn’t worked for in his life, took the dollar. Crumpled it in his fist, shoved it in his back pocket, and talked about his essay.

It was a ten minute walk to Ronan’s dorm, and Adam spent the whole walk talking about civil rights, how racist the word ‘terrorism’ was, a word popularised by various administrations to excuse wars in the middle east, how racism in America had theoretically been made illegal after civil rights so the physical violence of it had moved abroad, or had to stay abroad, while the psychological violence remained – how even though it had been made illegal the physical violence remained too, how the entire black population of America was experiencing collective PTSD and he wasn’t surprised by the radical movements in the Middle East, how it was awful but it made sense to him, how meanwhile white people got away with violence because they were white, were shooting up schools, beating up kids and each other, how everything was so _violent all the time._

And then he stopped talking. Because Ronan had stopped walking. Adam looked up at him, and realised they were stood still outside a building. “Oh god,” he said, and laughed, awkward, dropping Ronan’s hand to stick both of his in his pockets. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble, that was probably really boring.”

Ronan shook his head, “No man, fuck, your fucking brain I swear.” He just kept shaking his head, smiling at Adam. “That was really interesting dude, I – I mean I knew about some of that stuff but the way you linked it all together was… yeah. Really interesting. I promise, not boring at all. _Fuck. _If you don’t get an A your professor’s a fucking moron.”

Adam smiled, and followed Ronan up to his dorm. “Dick!” Ronan called as he swung inside, shut the door behind Adam. “I’ve brought you a present.”

Adam elbowed Ronan as Gansey popped his head out the bedroom. “Adam!” he said, and he really did sound like Adam was a nice present, and Adam felt himself blush slightly.

“Hey Gansey,” Adam said. “I’m sorry I’ve been… absent this week.”

“Not at all,” Gansey said, and he was walking forward, posture all posed like he was about to give Adam a hug, but Ronan shook his head tightly at Gansey, and Gansey flicked his eyes to Ronan, stopped mid-step, and smiled broadly at Adam. “Have you done the homework for Latin? I’ve translated the passage from the _Aeneid _into English and honestly I think the translation might be wrong and Ronan’s already told me the poetry is terrible –”

“Well, you probably can’t have both,” said Adam with a shrug. “Do you want me to look it over?”

“Excuse you Parrish,” said Ronan, realising that the afternoon’s activity was going in a direction that disinterested him, flopping himself on the couch and grabbing a book from the coffee table. “You two are so uncultured I swear. You can have translations that are close to the original meaning _and _sound fucking nice it’s just harder.” And then he abruptly shut up, finding his place in whatever he was reading, and there was something in that sudden and intense switch of focus that had Adam shaking his head, completely awed.

He looked at Gansey to see him returning a similar expression. “Please, if you would.”

They spent an hour going over their translations – Adam’s was in his bag – Ronan occasionally deigning to drop in a correction to their Latin or a criticism of their poetry – _you just gonna ignore the anaphora in that verse and translate it differently the second time for no reason huh, cool sounds good – _before he finally got bored, or reached the end of his chapter, because he shut his book with a _clap_ and stood up and announced, “Ok time’s up happy Sunday Gansey I hope you liked your present but it’s my turn.”

“God, don’t,” Adam said with a sigh, but he stood up. “I’m very shareable.”

“Ignore him, please,” Gansey said, standing too, and holding out his hand. “It gets easier.”

He was smiling, and there was something about that smile that was impossible to ignore, so Adam shook his hand.

“Thanks for your help.”

“It was fun.”

“Oh my _God_,” said Ronan, “can we go?”

“Don’t blaspheme,” said Gansey, and to Adam’s amusement leant over and kissed Ronan on the cheek. “Be back before it’s tomorrow.”

In the car, after Adam had successfully rejected the offer to drive, Ronan slammed into the driver’s seat and pulled away without asking where they should go, so Adam settled back, once again marvelling at how comfortable the expensive leather seats were, and asked, “Is Gansey very religious?”

Ronan flicked a glance at him. “No, why?”

“The blaspheme thing,” Adam said, waving a hand in front of him vaguely. “Wondered if that was a joke.”

“No,” Ronan said again. “I mean, I don’t really know what he believes. I actually think Gansey might believe in every story he’s ever been told, but, he doesn’t go to church or anything.” Ronan shifted slightly in his seat. “That’s me.”

Adam hesitated, catching up before saying, “Oh right, so he was telling you for _your _sake.” He smiled. “That’s so nice, trying to make sure you don’t go to your particular mythology’s hell.”

And then Ronan was grinning, and they spent a while comparing Catholicism to other religions, comparing mythologies, and Ronan talked about how Christianity and Anglo-Saxon and Norse literature had a lot in common, talked about translations that wandered between Paganism and symbols of Christ, and Adam spent the whole time watching the side of his face as bright light from the sky reflected in the shine of his eyes.

“Ok you no longer get to call me a nerd,” Adam said.

Ronan rolled his eyes and tapped the dash in front of Adam. It was a curious gesture, one Adam supposed that with other people might have been a shove to the shoulder. “At least I’m using Latin to read cool shit you’re not even reading the texts, you’re just staring at it like it exists for the sake of it.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Language is about _communication_. So is art, by the fucking way, and that’s why poetry translations are _cool_ so shove that up your ass.”

“Ok, I’ll do that,” said Adam, and he finally tore his gaze away from Ronan, smiling happily at the unfolding landscape. They’d made it out the city and of course Virginian farmboy Ronan had found hills almost immediately, winding up and down country roads and Adam wondered what time it was. Didn’t really want to know. “Are you hungry?” he asked. “Can I buy you something greasy?”

“Romantic,” Ronan mumbled, but the look on his face suggested it was.

Ronan found a drive through, and Adam leaned over to interrupt the order, saying “Make that extra large, and extra fries,” smiling at Ronan, brushing shoulders before he leaned back again. Firmly took notes out of his wallet before Ronan could get any ideas, handed them over to the cashier with a _thank you, have a nice day_, brushed against Ronan’s arm again. And Ronan drove up the nearest hill, found a place to pull over with a bench and a view, but they just sat on the hood of the BMW, shared their food, and conversation, and let their eyes roam over everything, and each other.

When they’d finished eating Ronan rubbed his hands on his jeans, looked away before saying, “Is this our third date?”

Adam thought about it, smiled and said, “Yeah I guess, why?”

Ronan looked back at him. He sighed and said, “Maybe it’s too early but I want to tell you some stuff.”

“Oh,” said Adam, and he dropped his voice slightly, brushed his hands on his jeans too, turned towards Ronan and pulled his legs up, awkwardly crossed them underneath him on the hood. “Ok,” he said. “I’m ready. Tell me third date stuff.”

For some reason Ronan grinned, turned to mirror him, left one leg dangling off the edge, mumbled, “Just so you know, that’s the sort of thing you do that’s cute,” which made Adam blush, and also didn’t help at all because he wasn’t sure what about that had been cute, but then the grin fell from Ronan’s face.

“Ok so uh, Gansey’s known me a really long time. We went to high school together, Aglionby, posh boarding school nerds, whatever. I kinda hated it. Sorry, that probably makes me… anyway. But it was alright, because I had Gansey, and during the weekends he’d come to the Barns – that’s my family’s home, it’s kinda a massive stretch of farmland, but we’re not really farmers, it’s… yeah. We just own it. So we spent all our time together and when… some stuff happened. My dad – died when I was 15 and – quick version – I found him dead outside the house and whatever so that fucked me up for a really long time. Like, shitty stuff, street racing, alcohol, drugs, uh, unprotected sex, whatever, it was… I don’t really know how to feel about it now to be honest. At the time it felt like what I needed to do to stop myself _exploding. _But then I guess I did explode because those things stopped making me feel better after a while, and I kept doing them anyway because I had these shitty friends and… Gansey stood by me the whole time anyway, I have no idea why. And I guess it all… it really got worse and worse and worse so I – I uh – I – I sort of tried to kill myself yeh, sorry, but, yeh, there it is, and – well anyway after that Gansey sort of upped his game, him and Declan _bullied me _I am a _victim _and they got me onto meds and in therapy and, yeh, I stopped seeing this particular friend – that pissed him off – but anyway that’s not really relevant, but. I’m just saying I was kinda, a bad guy back then. And I really hated myself for a really long time. Even after I tried to stop it all. Even sometimes now, still. But. It’s not so bad now. And I don’t want to – that’s all mostly gone away. Yeh. But, I guess that’s why sometimes Gansey’s a bit, over protective.”

This speech had been made to the sky, and Adam spent a while after he’d finished speaking wondering at the appropriateness of that. That someone the scale of Ronan could only fit into something as infinite and wondrous as the sky.

“Thank you,” said Adam finally, and he reached out a hand to take Ronan’s tentatively, squeezed it lightly. “Thank you,” he said again, and he was horrified to realise there were tears in his eyes, so he blinked rapidly, but one fell anyway, and he said again, “Fuck.”

Ronan just laughed though. “Yeh, that’s – that’s a reasonable reaction I guess,” and he moved a hand forward, and asked quietly, “Can I – you’re –” and Adam nodded, and Ronan wiped his thumb under Adam’s eye, and caught at his tears.

“Fuck,” Adam said. “That – really sucks, Ronan.”

And Ronan smiled. “Yeh,” he said quietly. He sat back a bit and said, “Does any of that put you off?”

Adam was shaking his head before Ronan had finished the sentence. “_No_,” he said, putting everything he could into the word. “You’re – amazing, Ronan. No, listen – you’re actually here, in a really tough college, after all _that_? Are you kidding? No, it doesn’t fucking put me off. Jesus.”

Ronan smiled, but there was something complicated in his expression, like he was making a decision. He breathed out heavily and said. “Thanks, I was kind of nervous about telling you. But, I didn’t want to pretend I didn’t have this like – messy stuff in my past. Because,” he paused to chew his bottom lip, “look I’m not saying I’m gonna fucking relapse or – or that even if I did it that it would have to be your business, but – I’m, I guess I’m an addict or whatever and – I mean I still drink alcohol sometimes, it never really felt like I got addicted to that, but I kicked the guy and I kicked the drugs and. I haven’t found a therapist up here yet, don’t know if I will, Gansey thinks I should, but, I guess I just wanted you to know I’m not perfect.”

“Never crossed my mind you would be,” Adam said, and Ronan laughed, but Adam meant it as a compliment, and clarified, “You’re too real to be perfect.”

Ronan said, “I _really_ want to kiss you,” and Adam’s heart stopped, and Ronan continued, “I’m not going to, and I’m not really asking permission to, I just – fuck I just thought it so I figured I’d tell you,” and he looked away, shaking his head, a small smile on his face. “Really I just want to point out that today – today you told me about something you dismissed as boring but are clearly super passionate about, you made it interesting, and you explained the parts I didn’t get, and you made _me_ find it interesting. And nothing about that was boring, or snobby, or patronising.” Adam frowned and made to speak but Ronan hurried on, “And you listened to my random crap about religion, and stories, and languages, stuff I like, you made me feel I dunno… You made me feel Adam Parrish level of clever,” he laughed quietly, and continued, “you bought me dinner. No date has ever bought me dinner before. Ok so I have a shitty dating history but still, you’re generous, even though… sorry but, even though I think you don’t have much you’re sharing it with me and that’s… I just think you’re… you’re not selfish, ok? And man you’re so fucking nice you haven’t even asked about the guy or, any of the details like, you just listened, and you said it was ok and,” Ronan wiped quickly at his eyes and Adam, without thinking, reached up a hand and put it on the side of Ronan’s face. It was the closest he could get to what he wanted to do, his heart beating a mile a minute.

They sat like that for a few minutes in silence, two interlinked hands on the sweaty sun-heated metal hood of the car, Ronan’s thumb rubbing patterns slowly against Adam’s palm, Adam’s other hand resting on the side of Ronan’s face, thumb stroking his cheek, cool and pale and _soft_, while Ronan regained control of his breathing, eventually opening his eyes, looking straight at Adam, the sky a sharp bright backdrop to everything Ronan.

“I don’t know what to say,” Adam whispered.

Ronan didn’t reply, but shuffled his head slightly, cheek scratching lightly at Adam’s hand. Turned so that his lips could reach Adam’s wrist, and very softly, eyes closed, kissed him there.

Adam frowned, and started removing his hand, and Ronan opened his eyes, and let him, and just said, “Ok,” like he could possibly understand. Like anything about this was ok.

“I don’t understand –” started Adam, embarrassment creeping up his neck.

“I know,” Ronan said, pushing himself off the car, collecting wrappings and throwing them in the bin next to the bench. Returned to an unmoving Adam who was staring at his wrists, pulling his sleeves over them the second Ronan was casting his shadow over him. “It’s ok.”

Adam blinked furiously, glaring at his hands. “I don’t want to make this about me,” he said firmly, more to himself than Ronan, and then looked up, and Ronan’s expression was so open, and uncomplicated, his hands shoved in his pockets like he wanted to show Adam how ok everything was, that Adam felt himself soften immediately. He stood up, and Ronan moved back to allow him space, and for a second Adam regretted that. “Thank you for sharing the stuff about your past with me,” Adam said, and he reached out a hand, feeling his sleeve fall back slightly as he did so, touched the hem of Ronan’s shirt and tugged it between his fingers. “I like you.”

Ronan’s grin split his expression wide open, and Adam would have kissed him, but instead he smiled back, curled his fingers into fabric. “Well fuck, Parrish. I like you too. Obviously.”

On the drive back Adam asked tentatively, “Ronan, it’s ok if you don’t want to… but will you tell me about your dad?”

And Ronan smiled, bright and maybe a little unhappy, but all the same his hand reached for the stereo, fiddled with a few things until Irish folk music started blaring out the speakers, and Adam opened the windows as the last light of day spilled into the car, and curled in his seat facing Ronan, and Ronan talked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im not ashamed to admit that writing this fic has gone from "rabi by bon iver" to "i almost do by taylor swift" and i wonder how obvious that is xx
> 
> ps white british girl makes up ramblings for adam to spew about his paper - if he said anything offensive let me know?? because this is supposed to just be fun not like a place to piss people off. hopefully pretty standard stuff but yeh. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love you guys so much thanks for all your comments ^^ let's be honest the chapter count was always a lie, i figured this would be 3 chapters but here we are chapter 6 uh sorry?
> 
> not sure how i feel about this chapter but... well. trauma's gonna trauma.
> 
> content warning at end in case you wanna have a quick check (because, spoilers)

When Adam woke up, it was to sunlight stretching across his pillow, a folk tune stuck in his head, and the pull of a smile on his face. He got up, moving around Daniel with ease – _hey man – good morning – _and showered, humming the tune lightly under his breath, rubbing mint shampoo through his hair, smiling lightly as he felt it buzz into his scalp. He sat in the shared room, where there was a small couch, with a bowl of cereal and a mug of coffee and did some reading for the week. As light started to spill into the room he let his head fall back and turned to the side, eyes closed, let heat move across his skin.

At 10am he left to make his way across campus. In computer lab B he opened his emails and wrote one to Ronan.

Favourite chocolate?

Adam xx (ps good morning!)

He spent ten minutes finishing off some homework before he got a reply.

Parrish what. Ok i am a very big fan of reese’s pieces but gansey is looking over my shoulder and would like u to know he’s “partial to musketeers, in case that’s helpful”. Why would that be helpful gansey fuck off

Ok he’s gone see you soon??

Ronan xxx 😊

Adam smiled, packed his bag again and swung by the campus store.

In Latin, he edged along the middle row, took out his notebook, and checked his translation.

_Did you suppose, my father, _

_That I could tear myself away and leave you?_

Adam looked up when he heard movement at the door and smiled at the sight of Gansey, Ronan slouching in after him. Gansey headed to their usual row behind Adam, but Ronan stopped one early and edged in, and Gansey paused to follow.

“Hi,” said Adam, and wondered if the expression on his face matched how he felt. He hoped it did.

“Parrish,” said Ronan, and he wasn’t looking at him, but he was smiling as he stared down at his desk, grabbing books out of his bag.

“Hello. Lynch,” said Gansey, sitting down next to him, “are you actually getting your materials out for this class? Are you going to willingly participate?”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “So what, I like the Aeneid, fucking sue me.”

“That’s not very cool,” said Adam, “what about your street cred?” But Ronan just smiled at him like he was something he’d been waiting to smile at, and Adam looked away to shuffle through his bag. He produced the chocolate he’d bought from the store, placing a reese’s pieces in front of Ronan and a musketeers in front of Gansey.

“Well… fuck,” said Ronan, like no one had ever had possessed the ability or forethought to buy chocolate.

Gansey raised his eyebrows. “Thank you Adam, that was very kind.”

Ronan smiled at Adam, excitement on his face. “Chocolate _before lunch _is that even fucking allowed.”

“Yes,” said Adam, “it’s encouraged in fact.”

Ronan tore into his chocolate immediately and Gansey rubbed a hand across his face. “You know,” said Ronan, “I feel like I should apologise man, that you get a two for one deal here.”

Adam shrugged. “I like Gansey, it’s not a hardship.”

Gansey removed his hand from his face and smirked. “He likes me,” he said, poking Ronan in the shoulder. “I like you too, Adam.”

“Dating Ronan is like dating a single father,” Adam continued, looking at Gansey while he spoke. “You guys are just a package deal.”

In the corner of his eyes, Ronan’s entire face had lit up.

“Hey, _I’m_ the single father here,” objected Gansey, but it was drowned out by Ronan’s enthusiasm.

“Nope too late, Parrish proclaimed it, and he’s super fucking clever, you said so yourself. I get to be the dad now.” He leant back in his seat, grinning around his chocolate, and Adam just couldn’t stop smiling.

“As long as no one calls anyone _daddy_,” muttered Gansey, and Ronan cackled with laughter.

“Oh fuck you’ve ruined it,” he said, crumpling his wrapper and stuffing it in his bag.

When the teacher arrived Ronan set his hand near Adam’s on the desk and Adam curled his little finger around Ronan’s. He had to move it once the lecture began, so he could take notes, but heat lingered in his fingertip.

An hour later Ronan turned to the back page of his notebook and showed it to Adam. “I’ve started making a list.” Adam peered over to find a list of all the languages he didn’t study, crossed out with the title ‘no’ at the top. “I’m taking this shit seriously,” said Ronan.

Adam sat back, his body tight.

“What’s this?” asked Gansey.

“Parrish won’t tell me what other language he’s taking, and if I guess right I get to take him out to lunch.”

Gansey gave them both a look, and then smiled. “Well, gentlemen, that’s pretty…”

“Gay, sure, are you going to help or not?”

Gansey pushed his glasses up his nose, took the list and studied it. “No, I’m sure that would be cheating. However, have you thought about checking the school’s course list?” Adam turned away. “I don’t think this school teaches half these languages.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Adam said quietly, and knew he should follow it up with something – a joke, a dismissal, a change in topic – but he didn’t, and it sat in the air, and while Gansey studied the list, Ronan studied Adam.

They walked outside together and Adam reached for Ronan’s hand and held it properly, palm against palm, bodies a few inches apart. Ronan looked at him, squeezed his fingers, curled them lightly inwards.

Gansey said, “Coming to the cafeteria?”

Adam said, “I’m paying for my own lunch.”

Ronan said, “Of fucking course.”

It was easy. And Adam didn’t quite know what to make of that.

It was going to Gansey and Ronan’s to do homework with Gansey, to be mocked by Ronan.

It was staying for dinner because it had gone 7pm and Ronan had already cooked something that smelled like comfort and tasted like sunlight.

It was discovering that Ronan was a great cook, and going back two days later _because I have something to discuss with Gansey. Something history related. Something we have to do over dinner time because that’s when we’re both free, Ronan, don’t read into this._

_ Sure, Parrish, any requests?_

_ Anything._

It was not being sure how to pay them back, but on Saturday taking coffees when the three of them met up to go into the city.

It was spending a day listening to Gansey talking about architecture and local historical facts, and discovering he really enjoyed listening to Gansey talk, as long as he was on the right side of Adam, which turned out to be tricky to do in a city, but for some reason everything felt so light that he didn’t even mind the management involved in stepping around them both, occasionally having to ask them to repeat themselves, nodding even when he didn’t catch all the words.

It was Ronan constantly berating Gansey and Adam for being nerds but catching him looking at the tops of buildings as Gansey spoke, light in his eyes.

It was in the Metro, when Ronan and Gansey formed a two man cage around Adam, his back to the doors, everything overcrowded and stifling and bodies lurching together and at one point squeezing his eyes shut and although the claustrophobia was unpleasant Ronan rubbed a finger up and down the back of Adam’s hand and soon they were out and Adam grabbed Ronan’s hand properly and practically hauled him away.

It was, _God_, it was nearly kissing Ronan goodnight.

It was so strange how easily the three of them fit together. And it didn’t feel weird, Gansey wasn’t even a little unwelcome, didn’t act as though he felt unwelcomed. So much so that when the two of them dropped Adam off at his dorm he found himself swaying on his feet slightly, grinning at Ronan, toward him and away again, dropping his eyes to his feet, bashful and unsure.

“Goodnight Parrish,” Ronan said softly, squeezing his hand and then letting go.

Adam smiled up at him, looked at Gansey. “Night guys. See you Monday?”

“See you Monday,” confirmed Gansey, looking tired and content. “Thanks again for those book recommendations, if I find the Hoffman at the library I’ll get two copies.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Ok nerds time for bed.” He shoved Gansey away but looked back, just once.

In Latin, Ronan edged along the row and paced a plum on the desk in front of Adam. Adam raised his eyebrows, and tried not to smile. “Thanks, looking after my vitamin C intake?”

Ronan grumbled, “Yes _Parrish _I fucking am. We found a farmers’ market yesterday and they looked amazing and they fucking are so you’re _welcome_.”

Sometimes Adam forgot that Ronan with his shaved head and leather jacket and _fuck_s was essentially, “just a cute country boy, really.”

Ronan rolled his eyes but he was blushing as Gansey laughed. “Hey some of us were brought up on the _miracles _of the natural world, ok? It’s not my fault your parents clearly hated _nature_.”

Adam looked down at his notebook, wrote the date at the top of the page.

After class, Adam stood to tidy his things, listened to Gansey and Ronan making plans.

“I have to write my fucking literature essay,” Ronan was saying, forehead slumped against his notebook.

“That’s because you didn’t do it yesterday,” Gansey said, but not sternly, just like it was a fact he was reminding Ronan.

“Is that supposed to be fucking helpful?”

Then Gansey stood, and over Ronan’s hunched body he met Adam’s eyes and said, “Parrish, I am down a lunch companion. Are you free?”

Ronan lifted his head then, and Adam couldn’t see the expression he was pointing at Gansey. “Sure,” said Adam.

Ronan was grumbling all the way out, and before they went their separate ways he pointed a finger at Gansey. “Don’t be fucking weird,” he said.

Gansey smiled and held up his hands. “How could you accuse me of such things? I only ever act in your best interests, Lynch.”

Ronan rolled his eyes but then he caught Adam’s gaze and held his hand a few inches from his body. Adam smiled and reached out, slipping his fingers between Ronan’s and squeezing them, once, before pulling away. “Email me,” Adam said.

“Ok,” Ronan said, smiling as he walked off.

“Where do you wanna go?” Adam asked Gansey as they started walking together, but they were already headed to the closest cafeteria – but the thing was Adam suddenly felt uncomfortable. He’d spent all week with Gansey and Ronan, the three of them together. This was the first time him and Gansey had been alone.

They sat down with their food and exchanged notes about their classes, professors, schedules, homework – Adam was comfortable with this, knew he enjoyed talking about academia with Gansey, someone who seemed genuinely interested in Adam’s take on the college, on Gansey’s course load, who was interested in Adam’s own choices. It was soothing to use his voice for this, to not have to make adjustments or judgments to his words.

Then Gansey said, “So, Adam. I was wondering… this is a little awkward but I wondered if I could have a word.”

Adam stilled, lowered his fork. “Ok. Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?”

Gansey laughed, but it was short, and clearly put on, and said, “No no, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be awkward. I – perhaps I’m so used to looking after him I don’t know when to stop.”

Adam leaned back in his chair. “Are you serious?”

“Well,” Gansey said, and then considered. He leaned back too, but his back was straight, and from somewhere he produced a napkin, wiped his lips and then his hands, tucked it neatly on top of his plate, all the while frowning at the table. “I just wanted to clarify a few things I suppose. About you.”

“Ok,” said Adam, and he felt parts of him start to seep away from his body. _No wait_

“Ronan is my best friend and, I don’t know how much he’s told you about um… well, about his past…” Gansey left a pause here, but Adam had already begun distancing himself from this, didn’t scream _I know about his dad I know his dad died I know he loved Ireland and his family and the rolling hills and he taught his sons to box and he loved Ronan best of all and Ronan tried to kill himself and he didn’t say but I think he might have succeeded if it wasn’t for you, _instead stared at a spot past Gansey’s head, managed a noncommittal “hmm”.

“It’s not really my place to tell you, but I’m worried he won’t, and I think you ought to know… he’s had quite a hard time. There was this boy at our school, Kavinsky.”

For some reason Adam’s father started talking to him. _you never change_ and Adam shook his head, smiling at his own internal fucking drama, and Gansey looked a little startled, but continued.

“He was bad news, dangerous, didn’t care about the law or himself or hurting people, the person you went to for anything illegal – fireworks, drugs, street racing. And Ronan got caught up in it, in him. Kavinsky was manipulative, he knew exactly how to handle Ronan, how to grind him down until there was nothing of his self-worth left. Tearing him away from that… _asshole_, was hard, impossible, and I’m very proud of him for not going back.” Gansey was still talking but at the same time Robert Parrish was saying _you think you’re better than us? _Adam’s heart was beating beating beating and he had no idea why and he wondered if there was a way of checking his pulse without Gansey noticing. Under the table he put two fingers to his wrist, but there was no way to feel if the beat was steady over the pounding in his head.

Gansey tapped a finger on the table, frowning down at it. “Ronan went through some pretty dark times… he’s had help since then, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression here, he’s doing really well. And I was worried, suggesting he come to the same college as me, that it might be… but he’s absolutely thriving, and I’m thrilled.” A smile broke through, but it was brief, and he turned to stare out the window, before turning back to try to meet Adam’s eyes, but behind him Robert was screaming _look at me when I’m talking to you._

“I just don’t want to lose him again, Adam.” Gansey was talking quietly now, and Adam looked at him, everything slotting into place. It was almost calming really, like running out of breath. Gansey had seen Adam, and was making sure he knew. _I see you boy stop faking_

“Got it,” Adam said.

For a second Gansey looked ashamed, started saying, “I’m sorry if this… I don’t mean to imply… I just don’t want to lose him.”

“I think that’s really up to Ronan, don’t you think.” And Gansey looked shocked. Perhaps it was the tone of Adam’s voice – low, without colour, as though he were speaking from far away, which really he was, because he wasn’t in a cafeteria he was in a _trailer _and his father could _see him _and Adam was apologising _I didn’t say I was better than you _because he was from the same dirt born in the same air broken in the same skin – or perhaps it was the shock of words callously dismissing the possibility of suicide, of Gansey’s duty, Adam’s part in any of it – or perhaps it was the ringing in Adam’s deaf ear. _You’re man-i-plative. Trying to get your own way. Selfish, Adam. Lying to your mother. Lying to me. look at me when I _

“I have to go,” said Adam. He stood up, slowly packing his bag, and Gansey was saying something, was even standing as Adam walked away without replying, as his father followed him outside.

That night, Adam stared at the ceiling, unsleeping, words dancing behind tired eyes. _did you suppose my father genitor that I could can I tear myself away and leave you did you think that I could break do you suppose I could, could I tear but unthinkable_

_ unthinkable unthinkable_

_ unthinkable_

_ unthinkable_

When Adam woke up it was to tight skin and dreams of his father towering above him, Adam on the ground, _please stop please stop please stop _and his left ear ringing – he touched it, vacant, elsewhere; it was to loud warring voices in his head and him, frowning, and not opening his eyes as he thought _I overreacted, Gansey wasn’t saying – _but also – _I am broken and he knows he knows he doesn’t want me to break him too – _and he swung a leg out of bed, and then the other, eyes still closed, and thought – _I really don’t think that’s what he meant, this isn’t fucking logical Adam _– but also ­– _but ok we do know I’m manipulative and selfish and weren’t those the exact qualities Gansey’s afraid of – _and then he opened his eyes and his skin was crawling and his father was walking towards him and he just wanted it to stop and he imagined smashing a glass into a wall and wished for a split second it was his father’s face, no, he wished it was his face – _it was a little your fault, wasn’t it Adam? _– and then he opened his eyes, stared, a little stunned, blood on his knuckles and the bathroom mirror shattered, glass dripping into the sink, and from somewhere far away Daniel’s voice, “Adam?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: mention of suicide, panic attack, memories of past trauma/abuse, dissociation


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the break, i just moved house. but now there should be ample time for writing! theoretically. anyway enjoy some pastoral goodness. in case you're wondering this chapter was powered by the song "dancer" by novo amor xxx

Adam came back to himself slowly, and then all at once, like crawling through a dark tunnel only to be blinded by sunlight at the other end. He felt nothing, and then he felt sick. Suddenly. It was almost enough to topple him except Daniel was standing in the doorway and – god, there was glass in the sink, the mirror really had smashed, a gaping jagged hole in the middle of his reflection – _god_

“Jesus, Adam, are you ok man?” Yes. He was ok. He didn’t think he was saying this out loud. He nodded, a small frown on his face. “What happened?” Daniel had moved into the bathroom and Adam wasn’t sure – was he going to – he moved his fist out of Daniel’s outstretched hand. Cleared his throat.

“I’m – sorry, I don’t –”

“I should call the RA –”

“No –”

“Dude, your hand –”

“It’s – fine –”

“The mirror…”

It took ten minutes and some acting on Adam’s part to convince Daniel not to tell anyone. _I’ve been really stressed, seriously, I’m really sorry that wasn’t okay, I didn’t mean to break it I just – you know what it’s like – yeah haha – **that wasn’t ok **– don’t know my own strength. Really. Honestly. Sorry **that wasn’t ok but **No let me – yeah, I’ll clean this up. I’ll email maintenance tomorrow. Yes I’ll go to the nurse too, but don’t_

By the time Daniel had to leave for his first class, Adam’s hand was cleaned and bandaged with what he could find in the first aid kit; large glass shards were safely wrapped up in an old student newspaper in the trash; the sink had been cleaned to an inch of its life, Adam still scrubbing around the basin and the floor for any signs of wayward fragments.

And then he started shaking.

It was weird, because he felt ok. Or, perhaps that was a stretch. Perhaps he was feeling nothing. His mind was heavy with a thick dullness and his whole body felt fuzzy, blank, empty, crawling. So he was fine, he wasn’t sure why he was shaking.

Adam finished up in the bathroom and went to get ready.

By his second lecture of the day he felt something resembling normal. Ashamed, and embarassed, though unsurprised **_that wasn’t ok Adam _**and relieved Daniel had promised not to report it. Adam left his second lecture with his bandaged fist tight on its hold of his backpack strap, and he gazed at it, wondering.

But he felt something resembling normal and so allowed thoughts of Ronan to filter through the haze. Shit, he hadn’t checked his emails yesterday. For the first time he cursed not having a phone, it would make everything so much fucking easier. He stopped, still, in the middle of the walkway, and took a deep breath. No, not easier. More convenient. But he was fine, people didn’t _need_ phones for christ’s sake. He let out the breath and started walking again.

In the computer room he let his bag fall to the floor and his body fall into the chair and took another deep breath. He had a few emails from Ronan, and one from Gansey.

The Ronan emails were all along the same vein.

Parrish I’m being serious why did no one tell me university was just like school except I’d feel like I was fucking doing this to myself?? … Parrish if I tell you I like mustangs will you bring me a mustang to class, is that how dating works … Seriously I cannot stare at this any longer, moving to Computer room B, hope you’re there … Parrish I thought you were a fucking nerd where r u … Parrish :( … Ok fine I’ll nerd all by myself but you owe me plz … Parrish

Adam’s body was a separate thing to himself. Perhaps he was coming down with something. The mirror… and anyway the shaking. He felt separated, like watching himself from a distance, reading Ronan’s emails, tilting his head to the side like _ok well this is gonna make things harder_, like tensing and untensing each muscle in his body in turn would make it possible to open Gansey’s email.

He opened it anyway.

Adam,

I just wanted to write to make sure you were ok. I don’t think I came across quite as I meant to today. I don’t know whether Ronan had already told you about Kavinsky and I don’t know how upset he’ll be with me for telling you, but I don’t care. I’m sorry if it made you upset, hearing that, but Ronan means a lot to me and I’m just trying to look out for him. You are a great guy Adam Parrish and he

Adam closed the email.

Stared at a blank screen for a minute. He didn’t want to write to Ronan. Would it be better if he just never wrote to him again? But they had Latin together. And he’d already done that to him once. And Ronan – Ronan who smiled louder than he spoke, who held his hand and smiled, Ronan who listened to his crap and spun words around _fuck _and _Parrish_ and who _smiled_ at him like – Ronan didn’t deserve any of this – didn’t deserve to be left wondering. To be unloved. Adam. He started a new email.

Hey Ronan. Sorry I didn’t email yesterday, I hope you survived your essay. I have a crazy busy week, can we meet up at the weekend? Sorry. Adam.

And he left the suite.

That night Adam peeled back the bandage, and stared at his knuckles. Tried to say the words in his head. _I… punched? I… did I punch… _Tried to remember the act of closing his fist and couldn’t, couldn’t even remember entering the bathroom. It was 1am and he wasn’t sleeping. Daniel had been around that evening and Adam felt like he had some bad roommating to make up for, so he’d made enough noodles for both of them, had sat while Daniel put on a sitcom he liked, ate quietly while Daniel laughed. Adam was still sitting cross-legged on the couch a couple of hours after Daniel had gone to bed, notebook balanced on one knee, textbooks lain forgotten next to him, fist held up in the air.

He pulled on a shapeless black hoody, stuffed his feet into his beat up sneakers, and left.

Walking through campus at night was gold air, glorious. Everything was thick with possibility, and if Adam thought he would continue to feel unsafe around drunkenness he was pleasantly surprised. Gold streetlamps lit the bodies of giddy students stumbling past, music blared out of open windows, a couple of hushed shouts echoed between brick and concrete, and Adam almost smiled.

He opened the door to the 24 hour computer room and sat in his chair. Spun around a couple of times. Looked at his fist. Blood was dried across his knuckles, a couple of grazes and cuts in the skin. Everything was tender, and it hurt when he made a fist. He clenched and unclenched his hand a couple of times, like pumping _feeling _back into his body, then opened his emails.

Parrish! I’m pleased you’re not dead but are you ok? You sound a bit not ok. Feel free to tell me to fuck off… what’s your favourite chocolate? x

Ronan had completely ignored the whole point of Adam’s email – that he was too busy to meet until the weekend – and Adam couldn’t help it. Half a smile pulled over his face and he typed back

Thought you’d never ask. Snickers. Don’t suppose you’re awake

And sent it without thinking. It only took three spins on the chair for Ronan to reply.

Oh mr too busy to see me suddenly booty calling huh

Adam blinked. Grinned. Wrote back

If you call demanding a 2am bar of snickers booty calling, then sure

Fuck, what was he doing? He didn’t spin his chair this time, he felt dizzy enough already, held his head in his hands and leant his elbows on the desk. This wasn’t fair. He counted breaths and listened to the clock tick and concentrated on _breathing_, on untensing the muscles in his face, and a few minutes or maybe ten passed when he heard the door to the suite open. “Parrish?” Adam almost jumped, turning round in the chair and automatically pulling his sleeves over his hands.

“_Christ_ Ronan I didn’t mean… I mean…” He stood up. Blinked at Ronan. “Hi.”

Ronan smiled, but it was cautious. Like the _Parrish_ had been cautious. He held out his hand, and in it was a bar of snickers. “You sounded like you needed it like fucking now and I wasn’t sleeping anyway… no big deal.” He shrugged, but Adam thought there might not be anything about Ronan that wasn’t a big deal. Guilt loomed over Adam, clung to his skin, but he couldn’t help it. He smiled.

“Ronan,” he said, and for some inexplicable reason Ronan’s smile grew wider, his eyes darting away and back again. Kept his hand outstretched until Adam uncurled his left, uninjured hand out enough from his oversized hoody to take the chocolate. He looked down at it, completely undone.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

Adam followed Ronan out of the computer suite, through campus, all the while clutching his chocolate bar, and no one saying anything. It felt odd, a part of him wondering if he was boring, if what felt like a comfortable silence to him might feel like agonising stretches of disappointment to Ronan, but whenever Adam glanced over at him Ronan’s eyes were dancing over passing students, over the moonlight peeking behind a cloud and beaming across the concrete, over a discarded tennis ball on the ground that they kicked back and forth for a while, over Adam’s face, his eyes happy, curious, alight, awake.

They walked as far as the lake that hugged the far edge of campus, separating the students from a scattering of trees Adam so far hadn’t explored. Ronan pushed through a couple of branches that circled the water, holding one up for Adam to squeeze through, and found a piece of smooth, raised grass where they could dangle their legs without touching the water. Or at least Adam could. He grinned as Ronan eventually gave up on trying different positions, discarding his socks and shoes to let the sole of his feet skim the water.

“Cold?” asked Adam, watching a small tremor flit through Ronan.

“No,” said Ronan through gritted teeth. “I fucking love zero temperature water in the middle of the fucking night.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “It’s not zero temperature. Here,” and he shrugged off his hoody, pulling it off his arms and holding it in front of Ronan.

But Ronan’s eyes flicked down to Adam’s right hand. “What happened to your hand?”

Adam froze. For a second it sounded like Ronan had said _what happened to your face, mr parrish _or _christ Adam is that a bruise on your back _and echoes of voices shot through him and it was, briefly, deafening. And then he shrugged, like he’d always shrugged. “Nothing,” he said, and it wasn’t a very good lie. A piece of beige, fraying fabric was wrapped round his knuckles and there was no possible reason he could come up with that wasn’t _I punched something and it hurt_.

Ronan took the hoody slowly, but he wasn’t even looking at it, bunched it up in his lap. “You get in a fight or something?”

Adam just looked away, listened to the gentle rustling of trees, an owl hooting from somewhere, almost thought he could hear moonlight whispering across the water. “No,” he said.

From the corner of his eye he watched Ronan slowly uncurl, releasing some unknown tension, sighing, and then shrugging on the hoody. When it was on he held out his arms as wide as they could go, the sleeves pulling up too far above his wrists, and said, “Well?”

Adam looked at him then, and chuckled, something breathy and surprising leaving his mouth. “It doesn’t fit you.”

“Of course it doesn’t fucking fit you’re like five inches shorter than me.”

“Ungrateful. And it’s like three inches.”

“You wish.”

“Why would I wish that?”

If it wasn’t so dark Adam might have seen more than a slight redness creep up Ronan’s neck as Ronan looked away, shaking his head and trying not to smile. “Eat your fucking snickers, Parrish.”

Adam ate his snickers, but he handed the second half to Ronan, and laughed when Ronan scoffed it down quickly, like he was a starving man. “It’s the middle of the night how are you this desperate for chocolate.” He’d scooted closer without realising, readjusting so that his legs were crossed under him, leaning an arm down so he could brush his fingertips across the top of the water. It was icy cold and he watched Ronan’s feet for a second, legs swaying gently and toes dipping in and out of the mirrored tip.

His knee was almost touching Ronan’s hip.

Ronan said, “I’m not _desperate _for chocolate Parrish, I just know a good thing when it’s handed to me.”

Now Adam could feel heat rising up through his cheeks and, horrified, he dropped his gaze to his lap, shook his head, and the smile off his face. Ronan wasn’t talking about _him _and he felt shame that the idea had even occurred to him he might have been.

Adam could feel Ronan’s eyes on him, and Ronan said, “Yeh, I was talking about you." Adam pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his bare arms around them. Fingers worried at the edge of his bandage. "No offence but you seem like you might be a bit crap at… all this.”

Adam couldn’t look at Ronan, so instead he looked across the lake, at the willows dropping into the water hundreds of laps away. “At what,” he managed, voice quiet.

Ronan shrugged and said, “I dunno man. Taking compliments? Picking up the fucking hint that I really fucking like you.”

Adam said, “I have to tell you something.” But it wasn’t really him who said it, it must have been another Adam, because the second the words left his lips he felt panic pool in his stomach. Something acidic and awful. Ronan didn’t say anything for a few seconds, a minute, and Adam shook his head. “Ah sorry. I uh – forget I said that. I didn’t mean – I was just gonna say –”

“It’s ok,” Ronan said, and Adam curled his hand into a fist, and Ronan said, “It’s ok Adam.”

They sat and looked over the lake together, and Adam felt the panic slowly leave his body, pooling and draining into the water, and with it his nerves, so he leaned over a few inches and rested his head on Ronan’s shoulder. Ronan tensed, and didn’t relax until Adam reached out a hand to collect Ronan’s, to bring his arm up over his shoulders, immediately placed his own hands in his lap, waiting for Ronan’s frame to sink gently into Adam’s. Adam's whole side was pressed lightly against Ronan, and under him, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. And Ronan seemed content to just sit there. Adam occasionally turning to press the side of his face into Ronan, who smelled like Adam’s hoody and, underneath, something distinctly Ronan; Ronan occasionally rubbing the tips of his fingers gently up and down Adam's shoulder. An Adam didn’t dare look up once, instead watched as Ronan’s other hand scuffed the ground to find pebbles that he flung haphazardly into the water, grass stalks that he curled his fingers around, his knee where he tapped a haphazard beat, but they sat like that until Adam began to shiver, and Ronan’s hand tightened minutely across Adam’s neck and shoulders, and he said, gently, “Let’s go, I’m fucking freezing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading and commenting, honestly you make my day and make writing this so easy. -hedy xxx


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently this chapter is mostly an excuse to talk about what music I think they'd like. The only music I think I don't name is the Irish album, which is Dubh by Last Night's Fun - the haunting pipes are from The Ploughman and the Furrow. Not that you need to know that. Except you do because it's really fucking good. xxx
> 
> (content warning: brief, mild discussions of suicide attempt and dubious consent)

Adam was avoiding Gansey.

Not that it was hard. They had no other classes together that week, and Adam always met Ronan out of the dorm. Gave excuses not to go back to his to see Gansey. Smiled apologetically as he gave them then looked away.

He was also avoiding considering whether this was fair to Gansey, whether it was rational, what to do about the facts of their conversation. But Adam knew that the second he saw Gansey he’d remember why he shouldn’t have this. It was like there were two parts of him, and he wasn’t listening to either very hard.

A car horn sounded outside, loud and obnoxious and Adam lifted his head, and smiled.

“What the hell is that?” said Daniel, stepping out the kitchen and walking over to the window. “Some asshole’s parked on the curb.”

“Yeah,” said Adam, “gotta go.”

Outside, Adam slung himself into the passenger seat and shuffled his bag into the footwell. Staring straight ahead out the window, Adam said, “My roommate thinks you’re a hooligan.”

Ronan sighed and said, “I’m so misunderstood,” and pulled away, racing out the parking lot as though there weren’t 30 or 40 cars parked there.

“Where do you wanna go?” asked Adam.

“Anywhere,” said Ronan, and Adam grinned, and leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Fingers felt along the door and rolled down the window.

The first part of Adam felt cool September air hit his face.

“So Matthew is coming to visit,” Ronan said, one elbow leaning out the window, fingers curled relaxed and happy on the steering wheel, his other hand tapping a beat on his knee. Adam had learned quickly that there were two states to Ronan: there was _Irish folk music _Ronan, who allowed comfortable silences, who flung glances at Adam, a soft smile on his face, who would sometimes just listen as Adam talked about his day; then there was _EDM _Ronan, who flung anything electronic and pulsing at Adam, who made crude jokes and innuendos and laughed like it was a part of the song. Adam had been asked early on what his favourite music was, and when he’d replied _I don’t listen to music much_, Ronan, horrified, had taken it upon himself to school Adam in his two favourite genres. Adam only listened to music in Ronan’s car, and they’d only been hanging out for a couple of weeks, but he dutifully wrote down in Ronan’s leather notebook every time they found a song he liked.

The first part of Adam considered how much he liked knowing there were two Ronans, both as obnoxious in their love of music as the other.

“That’s cool,” replied Adam, getting out the notebook from the glove compartment and asking, “song?”

Ronan rolled his eyes and said, “You always like the fucking sappy shit. Write down Hey, Matisse and Sadko.”

“If it’s fucking sappy,” said Adam, writing carefully on the next line on the page, “why are we listening to it?”

“Fucking thing’s on a random playlist,” mumbled Ronan, but Adam was pretty sure he’d heard this before.

“Maybe I just love to see you smiling,” said Adam, grinning as he put the notebook away.

Ronan ran a hand over his eyes, the car never detouring off course. “Jesus fuck,” he said, “that’s it, I’m putting on some fucking Skrillex next, you’ll _hate _that.”

“What’s the point in this if you put on songs I’ll hate?”

“You already dislike music I’m not _pandering _to you.”

The first part of Adam didn’t hate Skrillex, but he wondered if it was mostly watching Ronan unabashedly, body turned towards him, as Ronan mouthed _YES OH MY GOD _and, with a full grin on his head, moved his head side to side and back and forth in a way Adam could only imagine doing, tapping his own head gently up and down while he watched this person next to him, so completely full of joy.

“It’s alright,” said Adam, shrugging as the song finished, looking away.

Ronan mumbled something about _fucking uncultured _and Adam remembered the aborted conversation. “Matthew?”

“Oh right,” said Ronan. “Next weekend. It’s only been like a month but uh, yeah, I guess he wants to come up so.”

Adam scooted his seat back, shrugged off his shoes and lifted his feet, resting them on the dashboard, tapping his fingers on his knees as a new song came on. “It’s ok to say you want him to visit Lynch, no one’s going to think any less of you.”

“I might,” Ronan muttered, but there was an undeniable lift to his mouth. “Anyway, he’s a bit of an idiot, but I think you’d like him.” There was an implication to that statement that Adam was a second too late to respond to, because Ronan barrelled on, “I mean, if you’re free. You could hang out with us. You totally don’t have to though, like, whatever.”

“Christ Ronan,” said Adam, an amused smile on his face, “can you stop being insecure for one second? Yes I want to hang out with you and your little brother, _Jesus_.”

“Actually it’s Matthew.” Adam punched Ronan’s shoulder but his grin only grew wider.

“Ooh,” said Adam a few minutes later, unfolding his legs to grab his notebook after only a couple of opening bars.

“Are you fucking with me?” asked Ronan, glaring at him. “Of course the fucking country boy loves Avicii, you’re such a fucking cliché.” But Adam was waiting with his notebook, face turned towards Ronan’s. Ronan sighed. “Wake Me Up,” he said, almost a whisper.

Adam bopped his head, writing cheerfully. “I like it,” he said.

“No shit,” said Ronan, swerving round a corner as Adam asked him to turn the volume up.

Adam wrote _all this time I was finding myself_ in one corner and doodled a little sunshine underneath. Ronan might have seen, or maybe he didn’t, but he reached one hand over and held it near Adam’s until Adam knotted their hands together, Ronan resting them down in the middle. Adam curled his fingers in between Ronan’s, and he leant his entire body back against the car, arm dangling out the window.

The first part of Adam never thought he’d feel like this.

Ronan raced up a mountain and Adam flung his right hand up to hold the top of the car, both hollering and yelling out the window as they skidded round corners, heart beating against Adam’s ribcage, Ronan’s hand moving with Adam’s as he shifted gears, only slowing when they reached the peak, sliding gracefully along the road at ten miles an hour with Adam facing the view. Adam looked out over fields and fields of grass and corn and farmhouses and trees, and a small part of him twisted inside, as he thought about Virginia.

Adam said, “This is beautiful.”

Ronan, behind him, said, “Yeah.” When Adam turned round Ronan was looking at him.

On the way back they got take out – Adam’s turn to pay, which meant vegetable noodles and Ronan charming extra fortune cookies – and took it back to Ronan’s – _Gansey’s out, he’s over at the fucking girl’s house again – she has a name – don’t they all – _and sat on the floor.

“Tell me something,” said Ronan, once Adam had finished his food and Ronan was still half-way through his, poking at it thoroughly as he always did.

Adam smiled, head lolled against the couch. “Like what?”

Ronan shrugged. “We’re always fucking talking about me. You don’t have any siblings right?”

“Right,” said Adam.

“What are your parents like?”

“Um,” said Adam. He picked up his bowl. “I dunno. They’re… parents. Nothing to say.” He stood up and carried his bowl to the kitchen.

Ronan called, “There’s beer in the fridge.”

“Is this your way of asking me to get you a beer?”

When Ronan didn’t reply Adam got him one, grabbing a bottle of water for himself, returned to see Ronan had shifted, cross-legged, whole body slightly closer to where Adam had been. Adam sat back down, hip touching Ronan’s knee, handed him his beer, stretched his legs out in front of him, back leaning into the couch.

“So, your parents,” Ronan said, nudging Adam with his elbow.

Adam raised the water bottle to his lips. “We’re not close,” he managed after a few gulps.

Ronan nudged him again with his elbow and this time Adam caught it, turned his face to Ronan’s. He could feel Ronan’s breath on him when he said again, “Honestly, we’re not close, I don’t have a lot to say.”

Ronan looked distracted, eyes darting over Adam’s face, too close and too real, and looked away quickly. “Ok,” he said, shrugging, putting his beer to his lips. Adam watched him swallow, and had to look away. “Talk about something else.”

Something occurred to Adam he’d been meaning to bring up. “I’ve been meaning to say.” Ronan looked at him, fingers clutched around his beer. “I’m not actually gay.” Ronan’s eyes widened and Adam rolled his eyes, “I’m not straight calm down. I’m just… I figured you assumed I was gay. You make gay jokes a lot. And that’s fine. But, uh, I’m bisexual?” Adam ended quietly, putting his water bottle down and picking it up again.

And then Ronan was laughing and Adam looked up at him. “Jesus fucking weeps Parrish you nearly gave me a fucking heart attack.”

“So you don’t care?”

“The fuck would I care about that?”

Ronan took another swig of his beer, shaking his head and muttering, “Thank _God_,” and Adam grinned at him. After a minute Ronan said, “Talk about something else,” and looked at Adam expectantly, like hearing Adam talk was the best part of his day.

“If you could choose a super power,” said Adam, twisting the lid round on his bottle with his fingers, “what would it be?”

When Ronan didn’t answer straight away Adam looked back up at him. He had moved his arm onto the couch behind Adam so that he was nearly wrapped around him. “You’re fucking cute, Parrish,” he said, smirking. Adam blushed. Ronan said, “Flying, definitely.”

Adam rolled his eyes, looked away, rubbed one hand over his warm neck. “Well that’s original.”

“And you’d have what, the power to read _really fucking fast_.”

Adam’s hand stilled and his eyes widened. “I’d get so much done,” he whispered, and Ronan laughed.

Later that night, Adam got up to go, something itching in him to leave before Gansey might come back; Ronan held his body close to Adam’s, always close but never touching, as Adam stood at the door, and said, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Adam’s eyes swept across Ronan’s lips as they moved, flicking up to his eyes, and said, “Hanging out with you?”

Ronan touched Adam’s cheek, knuckles brushing over his skin, pulled away and said, “It’s hard work, but someone’s got to do it.”

And suddenly Adam only had one day left before he had to face Gansey again, and maybe that’s why he woke up to a frown on his face, cursing the sun, to sheets too warm and itchy on his skin, to flashes of a nightmare fading away hurriedly, to the second part of him in his ear whispering _he’s right you know_.

Ronan picked him up again, and as Adam got into the car said, “You’re an easy date you know.”

“Hey this car is comfortable,” said Adam, fastening his seatbelt. “Really I’m dating your car. Where are we going?”

“Anywhere,” said Ronan, and each time he said that Adam felt something hot fill his body.

The music filtering through the stereo was soft, and Adam didn’t recognise it. He asked, “How was church?”

But Ronan just shrugged, didn’t reply. Adam didn’t know what to think, didn’t have a road map for this Ronan.

Ronan didn’t drive out to the mountains, but instead went downtown, drove Adam past independent stores and cinemas and waited at red lights, and Adam talked to him about the reading he’d done that morning. He was just finishing, “I think I kind of hate Chaucer,” and Ronan was scoffing, when Adam finally noticed what was wrong.

A thrum of beat filled the car, this song undeniably different to the last, though it was the same band. “Hey this is kind of sad,” Adam said, as the melancholy tone of the music finally filtered through his brain. As he turned to study Ronan, the second part of him supplied

_ Oh. He’s sad_.

There was a glazed look in Ronan’s eyes, his head lilting against the headrest, both hands on the wheel, elbows in his lap.

“Mm,” said Ronan, clearing his throat. “Yeah I guess.”

Adam reached out a hand and tugged at Ronan’s t-shirt. “You guess?”

Ronan looked at him quickly then away, shrugged, and said, “Yeah it is. I guess I used to listen to this a lot. Uh, a couple of years ago.”

The potential importance of this conversation tugged at Adam, and he felt hot and uncertain.

“What’s the song?”

Ronan shrugged again, picked at the hole in his jeans. “Portishead. Machine Gun.”

Adam nodded, left it at that. Looked out the windscreen. Let the song wash through him.

“The thing is Parrish if you’d ever fucking listened to music you’d know about this,” and when Adam looked back Ronan was smirking, but he looked sad as he said, “You know that asshole teenage period where sometimes you’d listen to the same music over and over because it reminded you of something.”

_There is no other place._

Adam hesitated, felt panicky. He was no good at this. He knew he wasn’t good at thinking of other people, would fuck up, would say the wrong thing, said, “What does it remind you of?” Regretted it instantly. “Shit. Sorry. You don’t have to –”

Ronan shook his head. “It’s ok.” The song changed. There was no beat to this one, and something broke inside Adam, to imagine a smaller Ronan, worn out from the anger, small and broken in his bedroom, listening to the same music over and over again, imagining –

“It’s not ok, Ronan,” said Adam, and added quickly, “that you ever had to feel like that.”

Ronan looked away. “Yeah. It’s ok,” he said again, but quieter, “just had crappy dreams last night, that’s all,” and his whole form had slumped into his seat, and his eyes were narrowed in their focus, following the car in front of them in mid-afternoon traffic.

The second part of Adam wished someone else was here.

He licked his lips, leant forward hesitantly, slowly placed his hand on Ronan’s cheek. “Hey,” he said softly. “I’m not writing this down it’s too fucking sad,” and a breathy laugh escaped Ronan, and he glanced sideways at Adam. “Play me that Irish album I liked.”

“Yeah ok,” said Ronan, turning to press his lips, brief and soft, against the palm of Adam’s hand, as had become customary, Adam returning his hand to his lap as the second part of him thought _He only thinks he likes you because he doesn’t know you._

Adam’s lips rubbed against each other. He smirked at himself. Felt immensely tired. Said firmly, _Shut up._

At the next stop light Ronan played with his phone until haunting pipes filled the car. Adam looked out the window and asked, “What was he like?”

He imagined Ronan tensing. Ronan said, “Who? The guy?”

Adam nodded. “Yeah.”

The car was silent for a minute, the pipes slow and sad and Adam closed his eyes, feeling the music with every inch of his body. Eventually Ronan said, “I dunno. I dunno how to describe him. K was… an asshole.” He breathed out. “Gansey hated him,” and Adam scoffed under his breath, “but he was uh… I dunno. Undeniable. You really wanna hear this?”

Adam nodded again.

Ronan sighed, and said again, “I don’t fucking know. He’s crazy. He’s absolutely like out of his fucking mind crazy. Didn’t care what the damage was, as long as we were _alive_. And… that was great, for a while. We uh, I dunno. We weren’t like boyfriends or anything. Gansey would say it doesn’t matter what he called it. We hooked up, he treated me like shit.” Adam glanced over to see Ronan shake his head. “I don’t know,” he said again.

“Forget it,” said Adam quietly, reaching out his hand to cover Ronan’s on the gearstick, “sorry, I don’t know why I asked.”

“I didn’t know,” said Ronan slowly, resolutely not looking at Adam, “that it wasn’t supposed to feel like that.” Adam looked down. “I figured… I thought he was _right_, Parrish. I thought he was the only person who’d ever look at me like that, who’d help me feel alive, even when he was telling me I was nothing, even when he was nearly getting me killed… no I mean, it wasn’t just him. I wanted it.” When Adam looked up Ronan’s face was complicated, he was frowning but his eyes were darting between the windshield and his hands on the steering wheel, and the breath left Adam’s body.

“Ronan, did he…”

“_No_,” said Ronan, and the car swerved slightly, and they were silent until they were off the main road, moving smoothly through a small patch of trees on the edge of the city, until Ronan said, quieter, “No. It wasn’t… I mean, I never said _no_. To _anything._”

Adam thought, _that’s not the same thing_, but he stayed quiet.

“Look this is making it sound worse than it was,” said Ronan, trying for light, smirking, adding on, “we just fucked around a lot, he was kind of an asshole, I tried to kill myself, whatever right?”

“If this is how you’re able to talk about it,” said Adam, turning his whole body and pulling his sleeves over his hands, “that’s fine. But, Ronan, you should _know _how bullshit that is. That your first… relationship, whatever you want to call it, was some guy who had no idea what he had.” The car was slowing down, and Adam barely registered it. “I’m sorry he made you feel like you were nothing. I’m sorry you feel the need to explain to me that you never said no, but by the way that’s not the same as… wanting it. And that fucking sucks.” Ronan pulled the car gently off the road. “I'm sorry you sunk so low that... I hate thinking that... I just… Ronan, I just think you’re so… you’re so amazing, just… you're so…” Ronan turned off the car and leaned towards Adam, and Adam grabbed his shirt and pulled him and slotted their shoulders together, and wrapped his arms around him. Ronan’s fingers slid over Adam’s back, and Adam pressed his head further into Ronan’s shoulder, rubbed his face against Ronan’s neck, shivered where Ronan’s hands rubbed down the small of his back. “Ronan,” Adam whispered into Ronan’s skin.

“I can’t believe you exist,” said Ronan, voice distant and breathy, but Adam closed his eyes, felt along the broad muscles of Ronan’s shoulders with his fingers. Pulled his head back and lifted his lips. Didn’t open his eyes as he felt Ronan’s lips meet his.

They were soft, and Adam was shaking slightly, and he felt Ronan’s arms gather him up even tighter, as if he could hold him still, and Adam brushed closer to Ronan, and each push forward was gentle, lips murmuring against each other, Ronan breathing into him, and Adam’s mouth opening slightly, and Ronan moaning softly, the sound full of wonder, before pulling away, resting his forehead against Adam’s and breathing out long and hard.

Adam buried his fingers in Ronan’s t-shirt. He said, “Whoever invented cars didn’t take this into account.”

He felt Ronan huff against him as he pulled his forehead away, his arms still wrapped tightly around Adam, Adam's hands pressed firmly into Ronan's shoulders. Adam finally opened his eyes to see Ronan staring back at him, bright and burning. The gearstick rested uncomfortably between their bodies. “Morons,” said Ronan. Music filled the car, overflowed. Adam breathed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 👀


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took forever to get right, sorry x

They circled nearer campus as light was spilling out the sky, warmth spilling into Adam’s fingertips from where they pressed against the back of Ronan’s hand, into the smile on his face as the last drop of sunlight cast beams haphazardly across the car, bouncing off the laughter cascading out of Ronan.

_Was this real?_

“You’re lying,” Ronan was saying, cackling really, his eyes doing this lighting up thing that Adam liked.

“I’m not lying,” said Adam. “I don’t like them.”

“What the fuck, who doesn’t like _cats_.”

Adam shrugged, looked away so he could hide his smile. “I don’t trust them.”

Ronan scoffed.

Adam said, “Scoffs the man who doesn’t trust _the ocean_.”

“That’s not the same I could take a fucking cat.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Jesus,” Ronan sighed, shaking his head, “those must be some pretty fucking big trust issues if you’ve got them with _cats_.” When Adam didn’t say anything, he felt Ronan’s fingers move around so he could squeeze Adam’s, gently, always so gently. “You’re just mad you can’t nerd your way to their heart.”

“It’s true,” said Adam, “give me a textbook on how to get a cat to like me and I’m there. I can study the fuck out of that.”

Ronan laughed again, and Adam grinned at him, let his eyes linger on Ronan’s lips, and Ronan said, “Animals are _easy_, honestly Parrish, I’ll take you to the Barns someday, they’ll all love you.”

“Who will?”

“The animals,” said Ronan simply, and Adam had heard enough about the cows, and the goats, and the chickens, and the dogs, to know he just meant all of them, and Adam could really kiss him again right now.

“Hopefully it’s just cats that don’t like me,” said Adam.

Ronan indicated off the road and pulled into campus, skirting round until they were outside his dormblock, and he was turning off the engine. It had been a minute, or maybe more, but he said, “I mean, if you want to.”

“Mm?” Adam had begun thinking about dinner, been wondering if there was anything in his fridge, if he should just go to the cafeteria.

“Visit the Barns, I mean,” said Ronan. He wasn’t looking at Adam, though their fingers were still laced together. “You should come some time. Like, meet my mom and, you know, everyone.”

“The cows,” supplied Adam.

“Yeh,” said Ronan, studying the leather bracelets on his wrist.

Adam smiled, leaned his head sideways against the headrest. “Ok,” he said. Ronan looked up at him, eyes wide and happy, and Adam shook his head. “You’re pretty cute when you’re insecure.”

Ronan glared at him, but it wasn’t enough to hide the blush. “I’m not fucking _cute _Parrish.”

“Well not now you’re not,” Adam agreed, releasing Ronan’s hand to undo his seatbelt.

Outside the car Ronan was leaning against the driver’s door in a way that suggested he’d like Adam to be doing the same, so Adam stood in front of him, shuffled his feet forward until their shoes were touching, lightly put his hands on Ronan’s hips, nodded when Ronan reached out to do the same, looked up at him as a smile spread across his face. “Hey,” Adam said.

“Parrish,” Ronan said, smiling back and looking very much like he’d been trying not to.

Adam leaned forward, ever so slowly, felt their chests press together, tilted his head up, kissed Ronan slowly, slowly. Lips just dancing within a breath of each other. Felt Ronan breathe into him, hands tightening at his hips slightly, as if to hold himself still.

Adam drew away. Breathed out. “Cool,” he said, and Ronan grinned. “See you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” The grin was instantly replaced with a pout. “Why, what are you doing right fucking now?”

“Um, dinner?” said Adam, taking a step back and removing his hands from Ronan’s hips, lightly tugging on his t-shirt before doing so, bending to the ground to pick up his bag. “Homework?”

“Those things can happen in my dorm,” said Ronan quickly, though he was removing his hands from Adam as he spoke, locking his car and holding his hands by his side.

“Will they though?”

Ronan shrugged. “I can think of better fucking things to do,” he grumbled, “but if you’ve got school work to do you could at least do it near me.”

They had taken three steps from the car, but Adam linked his hands with Ronan’s, pulled him to a stop and put one hand on his cheek. “Clingy,” he said, and kissed him again. It was easier each time and Adam could feel himself falling into it.

Ronan was rolling his eyes as they pulled away. “Hypocrite.” But he was smiling at Adam.

It was a few more steps, hands still interlinked and Adam’s eyes on the ground, when Adam said, “Do you think Gansey will be home?”

“Probably,” said Ronan. “I’m sure he’d be as delighted as me to watch you do work.” After a couple of seconds of silence Ronan said, “Hey, you haven’t been round all week.”

Adam said, “Haven’t I?”

“Fucking no,” and Ronan suddenly sounded affronted, although he had only just realised the affront. He tugged on Adam’s hand. “Why not?”

Adam shrugged. “I dunno, maybe because we’ve been in your car pretty much every day clueing me up on my musical education.”

“Priorities,” said Ronan. “Ok well come round now then.”

“I’ve really got to work, Ronan,” said Adam, and he dropped Ronan’s hand, pulled the edges of his sleeves up to his knuckles.

He still wasn’t looking at Ronan, so wasn’t sure of the expression on his face when he said, “Ok.”

They had reached the front door of Ronan’s building, so Adam turned, gave Ronan a tight smile. “See you tomorrow?” he said again.

Ronan’s face had been blank, masking something Adam couldn’t decipher, but now he smirked. “Yeh yeh,” and leaned forward, Adam moving to meet him in the middle. He could fall into Ronan’s lips again and again and never get tired. Like they could hold him up. Ronan put a hand on Adam’s cheek, cupped his head, thumb stroking over his ear, fingers in his hair. Adam fisted his hand in Ronan’s t-shirt, tried to put a voice to his thoughts, frowned, and whispered against Ronan’s mouth, “You taste like… sunlight.”

Adam expected snark, couldn’t believe those were the words his brain had supplied, but Ronan’s arms gathered round Adam, holding him tightly against himself, just kissed him again.

“Fucking hell Parrish,” is all he said, no more than a whisper, and Adam could feel the buzz of the words against his lips as he fell into bed that night.

When he woke up everything was restless; the sound of the alarm on his phone irritating and loud, and he turned it off, swung his legs out of bed, grumbled good morning at Daniel, made coffee while he waited for the shower.

He leaned against the counter in the kitchen, frowning down at his legs.

Wondered if Gansey would be angry with him.

After he’d showered he grabbed his books and moved to the living room to study. Latin wasn’t until 11am, and he had his routines, poked gently at his cereal with his spoon until it felt the right level of soggy.

At 10:30 there was a knock on the door. He lifted his head. Shouted, “Daniel?” before remembering he’d already left for class. Adam pushed his books off his lap and onto the couch, got up and opened the door.

A cup of coffee was being held at Adam’s chest height, something tall holding onto it. Adam blinked up. Smiled. His smile faltered.

“Parrish,” said Ronan with a grin. “We wanted to bring you coffee. Before Latin. Wake you fucking up.”

Adam nodded. Shoved his right hand in his pocket, with his left took the coffee. “Thanks,” he said, “that was, nice. Uh, do you guys wanna come in?”

They came in. Adam shut the door and stood awkwardly by the door. Ronan had never been here before. At least the bathroom door was shut. The damn mirror was still broken. And they weren’t stupid. Adam glanced around the room. Picked up his oversized thrift store sweater and threw it on. Fiddled with the sleeves while Gansey and Ronan looked around the room. Spotted his textbooks. Put his coffee down on the table and moved to the couch saying, “Oh, sorry, it’s a mess, Jesus…”

“Stop flapping,” said Ronan. Gansey still hadn’t said a word, was stood near one of the bookcases, head moving up and down ostensibly reading book titles. Adam could feel Ronan’s eyes following him as he moved his textbooks first to the desk, and then sorted them into two piles.

Suddenly Ronan’s hand was reaching past him for Virginia. The teddy bear had occupied a corner of Adam’s desk, next to his copy of _A Room of One’s Own._ (The maple syrup sat dutifully in the kitchen.) Adam looked up to see Ronan smirking at the thing. He said, “Aw,” sarcasm dripping from his gravelly voice, but careful fingers stroked over the small bear’s fur.

“You’re the sap who bought it,” Adam said as he started pushing the second pile of books into his bag.

“You’re the sap who kept it on his fucking desk,” Ronan said.

Adam reached out to snatch Virginia away, hadn’t realised Gansey had wandered over to see what was going on. “What –” Gansey started. But he stopped, and a second too late Adam took in the three of them stood in a circle, Adam pressed against his desk, right hand reaching out from woollen sleeves.

“Oh,” said Gansey, “Adam – what did you do to your hand?”

Gansey reached his hand out and touched tentatively at Adam’s cut up knuckles and Adam threw his hand back so violently it hit the desk behind him, “_Fuck_,” he swore loudly, turning round and squeezing his wrist, feeling pain throb through his hand, closing his eyes.

“Shit,” said Ronan.

“Sorry,” said Gansey, “Sorry, Adam, I didn’t –”

“It’s fine,” Adam said tightly to the desk, eyes open, glancing at his hand once before shaking it roughly and pulling his sleeves back over them.

After a second Gansey said, “Did you get into a fight?”

Adam looked at Ronan. But Ronan was looking away, and Adam frowned, irritation coursing through him. Ronan wanted to know too. Of course he did. That was very reasonable, but looking away, deciding to do nothing, irritated Adam. Not that Adam needed rescuing. And even if he did he wasn’t Ronan’s responsibility. That much was clear. What were they even fucking _doing _–

“No,” said Adam, zipping his bag shut and throwing it over his shoulder. “Shall we go?”

There was a small frown on Gansey’s face, and Adam thought _judge me, please, fucking ask again_,_ I might as well have been,_ and he glanced back at Adam’s bookcase. “Stop creaming over Parrish’s books,” Ronan said, finally unsticking his feet, shoving lightly at Gansey’s shoulder.

Adam followed them over to the door, threw his feet in his shoes, closed the door behind them.

Outside, Ronan held his hand an inch from his body, and Adam’s body tensed, but he took it anyway. Didn’t want to be the cause of hurt on Ronan’s face. Every inch of him on alert.

“You look a bit freaked,” Ronan said in a low voice, angling his head away from Gansey, “you ok?”

“Of course,” said Adam, looked at his shoes, fiddled with the hem of his sweater. It was too big and he figured he probably looked stupid. He took a sip of his coffee with his left hand, squeezed Ronan’s hand with his right.

Outside Latin Ronan announced he needed a piss, squeezed Adam’s hand before taking off down the hallway. Adam stalked into the classroom without looking at Gansey, shuffled along his row until he was at the end, took his books out, ignored the way Gansey was still standing, hovering, two seats down from Adam.

“Adam,” he said, “I think we need to talk.”

“We really don’t,” said Adam, finding his blue pen and setting it next to his black one.

“I want to apologise.”

“My hand’s fine.”

Gansey sighed, sat down. “Well I’m sorry about that too, I didn’t mean to touch you –”

“Jesus I’m not fucking _breakable_,” Adam snapped. His body went still, anger leeching out of him as fast as it had hit, looked at Gansey.

Gansey said, carefully, “I didn’t think you were,” and Adam dropped his eyes, ashamed. _You think you’re better than us – _“but I’m still sorry. And about last week, I don’t think you –”

“_Don’t_,” Adam said tightly, clenched his fist around his pen, felt the healed skin cracking, “don’t tell him. I’ll – I’ll do it. I’ll do it ok.”

Gansey sounded confused when he asked, “Do what?”

And then Ronan was shoving his bag into Gansey, and Gansey stood up to let him past, and he sat heavily down in his seat. He looked at Adam, then at Gansey, said, “We good here?”

“Yes,” managed Adam.

“Actually,” said Gansey, and when Adam looked up at his face he realised what he was going to do.

“Gansey was just apologising about my hand,” Adam interrupted, gaze firmly on his textbook. He forced his fist to relax, wrote the date in the top corner. “But I told him it’s fine.”

When Gansey didn’t supply anything further, Ronan said, “Ok.” But when Adam looked at him a few seconds later Ronan looked unconvinced, and confused, and… hurt?

And something in Adam melted a little. He reached out a hand and rubbed his knuckles over Ronan’s arm. Ronan was frowning when he looked up, but it gave way to a small smile, and he said, “Hey.”

And Adam said, “Hey,” and then he was remembering kissing Ronan, and he felt his face heat up so he looked away, removed his hand.

“What you doing later?” Ronan murmured, his voice near Adam’s good ear.

Adam shrugged. “Not got any good offers yet.”

“Want me to make you one?”

Gansey cleared his throat. “You know I can _hear _you right.”

“Fuck Gansey I forgot you were still alive,” said Ronan at a normal volume, leaning back in his seat, and Adam smiled, and everything was ok again, everything was ok again?

After Latin they went to lunch, as though everything was ok, though Adam couldn’t make eye contact with Ronan, and Gansey asked Adam about his classes, and it was ok, though Adam felt increasingly warm, and Adam asked Gansey about his big history paper, and it was ok but Adam’s insides felt hot and raw, and like everything had been scraped out from the skin, and Ronan made snide comments, and Gansey asked Ronan about his philosophy paper, and Ronan made crude comments, and Adam’s knee twitched under the table.

He downed the rest of his coffee, stood up to get another one. When he got back Gansey said, “You trying to drown yourself in caffeine?”

“Yeh,” said Adam, blowing at the top, watching as his breath made small rings in the liquid. Twitched his knee under the table. Pulled his sleeves over his hands and cradled his coffee cup.

The second part of him said, _Jesus what the fuck is wrong with you_. The first part of him said, _Don’t fuck it up_.

“Parrish is probably trying to go for gold on sleep deprivation,” said Ronan, poking his fork at his plate, half a meal still in front of him. When Adam didn’t say anything Ronan said, “Christ I was kidding, how much did you sleep last night?”

And Adam shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. “Enough.”

He looked up then, and spotted Lucy across the cafeteria. He was working with her on an assignment, and she had seen him and waved, wasn’t that far away and said _Who’s the convict?_

And Adam managed a small smile, removed his hands from his cup, said, _Tell you later_.

She left the cafeteria and Adam looked back to a jaw-dropped Ronan. And then Adam realised what he’d done. “Oh,” he said, and didn’t know whether to smile or throw up.

“You’re – I –” Ronan was stumbling for words, and Gansey was just smiling, shaking his head. “You’re learning _sign language_.” When Adam didn’t deny this, Ronan threw his hands up. “_Fuck_,” he said angrily, and his whole body was twitching with excitement, “_Fuck _do I win? I won!”

“Does that count as guessing correctly?” Gansey asked. “You just saw Adam sign to someone.”

“I don’t care_ how _I won,” Ronan said crossly, but he was so excited he elbowed Adam and Adam – didn’t flinch, he didn’t flinch, because this was Ronan, but he closed his eyes and sipped at his coffee. _Don’t be weird don’t be weird don’t be fucking weird_.

But it was becoming weird that he hadn’t said anything, so he opened his eyes, shrugged and said, “Congratulations.” Managed to smile a little at his plate.

Ronan was so happy he shovelled the rest of his food into his mouth, so it was Gansey who asked, “That’s a fascinating pick, Adam, what’s the motivation?”

And Adam raised an eyebrow. “Why is it a fascinating pick?”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Gansey finds all knowledge fascinating.”

“Oh yes,” said Gansey hurriedly, looking worried, “I didn’t mean _because _it’s sign language.”

So Adam shook his head, more to dislodge his own mind than anything else, and said, “No reason.”

“The _linguistics_,” said Ronan, all smugness and pride and Adam smiled at him. _God_.

“I just meant,” said Gansey, waving his fork in the air before realising and placing it down, removing his elbows from the table, “often people learn sign language because they have a family member who’s deaf, or something like that. I was just curious. I didn’t mean to –”

Adam said, “I’m deaf in one ear.”

He said it to his plate. Put his fork down. Sipped at his coffee. Was relieved to discover it was cool enough to drink. Took another sip. Eventually looked up. Gansey’s expression was oddly clear, but Ronan’s was just confused. “Oh,” said Ronan. Then, “Seriously?” Adam nodded. “Oh,” said Ronan again. He looked away. “Ok. Cool.”

Gansey said, carefully, “Ah.”

And they were being awkward, and Adam couldn’t shut up suddenly, like a nervous dam had broken, so he laughed, no more than half a breath spilling from his hot mouth, and maybe that’s why he said, “Yeh, there’s something about losing half your hearing that makes you feel over-protective about the other half.” The words hit the table before he could take them back and he –

“Oh,” said Gansey, frowning. “I’m sorry to hear that. How did that happen?”

– couldn’t – move

Stared at the table, arms braced on the table, worried his sleeves between his fingers.

“Adam?” Gansey’s voice.

_How did that happen_

He narrowed his eyes, put a hand to the side of the head, suddenly felt a ringing in his ear.

“_Parrish_.” Maybe Ronan’s.

Why – ok – well – he – wasn’t moving – and – why couldn’t he – think – of a – medical –

Why was everything _ringing_

Ronan’s face was leaning into his vision. “Parrish,” he said again, and Adam focused his eyes on Ronan’s. Everything was blurry. “You ok?”

_Yes_, Adam thought eagerly. _Tell him you’re ok. _

_Are you ok son_

He tried focusing on Ronan’s eyes, blinking until he could see again, and then Ronan said, more urgently, more softly, hurried and reverent and worried and gentle, “Adam?”

Adam took in the longest breath of his life, choked out, “Sorry,” and for some reason Ronan reached out a hand slowly, was brushing a knuckle over Adam’s cheekbone, appeared to be wiping away tears.

Adam blinked.

Ronan said, “Come on Adam,” and he stood up, held a hand out to Adam. When Adam frowned at it Ronan held it more obviously near Adam’s hand, so Adam put his hand in Ronan’s, let him gently tug him to his feet. Heard him say to Gansey, _I’m gonna take him home_, heard Gansey say, _Ok, will you call me?_, heard the sounds of the cafeteria fade as they made their way outside.

Heard his knees hit gravel and dirt and dust flying up and around his body and _ringing ringing_

“Let’s go back to yours, yeh?” Ronan was saying, and Adam didn’t care, eyes were locked on Ronan’s boots, matching his steps, brain following a step behind his body. “Do you need anything?” Adam frowned. Did he need anything. He didn’t even know what that would mean. He felt sick, so he narrowed everything down to watching Ronan’s boots. “Do you want me to talk?” At this Adam managed to nod, so Ronan talked. He told Adam a story about his cow, Autumn, about how when she was born lightning had struck the small barn she and her mother had been moved to, so Niall had called for Ronan, and they’d hurried the pair into the house, which was much closer than the barn the cows usually slept in, Niall carrying Autumn and Ronan tugging the mother, and Niall and Ronan and two cows had huddled together in the kitchen, table pushed to one side, Niall teaching Ronan songs to soothe the cows with, laughing with how quiet they were trying to be in an attempt to not wake up anyone else, Ronan feeling like no one else in the world existed except the four of them, Ronan and Autumn falling asleep together against Daisy’s soft body.

When Adam blinked he was outside his dorm and Ronan was asking, “Where are your keys?”

But Adam was thinking about Ronan and his family squished into a farmhouse kitchen, the room filled with singing, but somehow his free hand pushed into his pocket, pulled out his keys, held them out to Ronan.

Ronan opened the door, tugged Adam across the floor, pointed at the couch. “Sit,” he said, but it was so gentle, Adam didn’t think he was being shouted at, was he?

“Sorry,” he murmured, closed his eyes as his back hit the couch. His eyelashes were wet and he frowned. Rubbed a hand over his eyes.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Ronan said, but he’d moved further away and Adam snapped his eyes open.

“Ronan?”

“I’m getting you a glass of water,” Ronan said from the kitchen, and Adam heard the tap turn on, so he pulled his legs up onto the couch, crossed them underneath him, pulled at his sleeves.

Ronan handed him the glass, sat down.

Adam said, “I’m sorry.”

Ronan didn’t say anything.

Adam’s hand tightened around his glass. He said, “I’m sorry.”

Ronan didn’t say anything.

Adam clenched his teeth. “Fucking say something.”

“What do you want me to say?” Ronan sounded so patient, so far away, Adam wanted to throw his glass on the floor.

But he didn’t.

“_God_,” said Adam, shaking his head, feeling his eyes start to fill again, brushed a hand at them haphazardly, said, “don’t, please fucking don’t –”

“Do you want me to leave?”

Adam just kept shaking his head, frowning, glaring at the water in his glass, at the carpet beyond that, at his shaking knees and brushed another hand under his eye, said, “I told you it would be like this.”

“Like what?”

Adam pinched his lips together, squeezed his eyes shut, held one hand over them. “_Fuck_,” he said, almost a shout, like an exhale of breath, of pain, and Ronan didn’t say anything, so he barrelled on, “I _told _you it would be like this – I’m just, I’m just being selfish all I think about is myself and I’m fucking pathetic and this is so manipulative I’m just being manipulative, and I _told _you all this, and I don’t – I don’t think – I don’t think this can – be a thing.” He wasn’t sure he’d said any of the words in the right order, but he felt Ronan shift on the couch.

Ronan said, “This? Us, you mean.”

Adam nodded into his hand.

“Right.” Ronan was quiet for a minute, maybe longer, and Adam was worrying he hadn’t got it.

“_Ronan_,” he said again, and then he was crying properly, chest wracking against his hands. “I’m, I don’t want you –” He sniffed, breathed in heavily, shuddering, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” said Ronan, voice distant and quiet.

“I don’t know why you can’t _see_ –”

“Adam for fuck’s –” Ronan stopped, took a deep breath, said, “I don’t know what’s going on. Honestly. I really honestly don’t know what’s going on. But you are not fucking selfish. You look like you’re having a panic attack –” Adam started shaking his head but Ronan continued, “Jesus Adam… just _talk_ to me. What’s going on?”

“You are the _only person_,” snapped Adam from beneath his hand, face wet and voice awful, “who doesn’t see how wrong I am for you.”

“What does – what does that – wait.” Adam waited. “Did he say something to you?”

Adam waited until his breath evened out, blinked rapidly, lifted his head and stared, stony-face, at Ronan. “Gansey can fucking see it why can’t you?”

Ronan was frowning. Took his phone out of his pocket. Adam felt panic rising up through him. “No, wait,” but Ronan was already dialling, lifting himself off the couch, walking half way across the room.

“Gansey what the fuck did you say to him?”

Adam stilled. One foot had reached for the floor, but he brought it back up, crossed it under him, stared across the room.

“_What? _Why –” Ronan’s face went still, and then he hung up. He looked back at Adam. Adam glared defiantly at him. “Right,” said Ronan. “A few things are making sense now.”

“Like what,” snapped Adam. “I’m breaking up with you. Is that making sense?”

But Ronan just shook his head, rubbing a hand across his forehead, pocketed his phone. He walked towards Adam, knelt on the floor in front of him. “Adam, how did you lose your hearing?”

Adam shook his head. “This has _nothing _to do with –” 

“Adam,” Ronan said again. 

“You can’t just keep saying my name I don't have to –”

“How did you lose your hearing?”

“_Fuck_,” Adam snapped, “he threw me down the fucking steps alright?”

Something in Ronan’s face broke, everything rearranging itself, and Adam wanted to hit something. _No. No you don’t. It’s ok. _“Now get the fuck out.”

“Adam…”

“Don’t look at me like that.” Words were spilling out of Adam, and he hated it, hated himself, hated Ronan, “I can’t – this can’t be a thing. You and me. It can’t be a thing. I’m – I’ll – I know you’re going to say it wasn’t my fault.” At some point he’d started crying again, and he wiped his knuckles over his eyes. “And I’m not saying – I’m not saying – I just – he _hates _me Ronan and I don’t blame him I ruined their lives, I ruined their fucking lives, I wish I’d never been fucking _born_,” and he fell forward, body heavy and he just wanted to die, and he scraped his fingernails through his hair, and then Ronan’s arms were round him, so he was crying into them too, and he reached out his hands and clung to Ronan’s arms, fingers pinching into his skin, head burrowed against Ronan’s shoulder, Ronan’s arms like a lock around him, like nothing could touch them, and he couldn’t believe he had to be himself, he couldn’t believe he was so awful, he couldn’t believe everything could hurt this fucking much, couldn’t believe Ronan hadn’t left, couldn’t believe –

Ronan whispered into his right ear, over and over, “It’s ok. It’s ok, Adam. It’s ok. It's ok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :( xxx


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah man this really is the end. i mean basically. 11 is not a lie, is what im saying. xxx

At some point Daniel came back, of course, the afternoon burning on and Adam vaguely aware somewhere in the back of his mind that he was missing his intro to politics class. He felt wrecked, body loose and aching in Ronan’s arms, head in one hand, cradled against Ronan’s chest. He heard the conversation from somewhere above his body.

“Oh… hey.”

“Hey man, I’m Ronan. Sorry. Adam’s not feeling so good.”

“Oh, right. Is there anything I can do?”

“Don’t take this personally but if you could fuck off somewhere for a bit that’d be great.”

“Yeh, uh, yeh, of course, no problem…”

Adam heard shuffling around the dorm, Ronan’s hands tight on his knees and rubbing slowly up and down his shoulder the whole time. Daniel’s voice, “I can go to Charlotte’s, I’ll, yeh, I’ll be back tomorrow, k? Hope you feel better Adam.” And then the door was shutting, and Adam let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He relaxed against Ronan, tightened his arm around his hunched knees.

And Ronan relaxed against the couch too, still wrapping Adam up like he could hold him there all day.

Maybe they had been there all day.

Had he fallen asleep?

Adam lifted his head, squeezed his eyes tighter then blinked them open, and met Ronan’s eyes.

Fingers were still stroking up and down his arm.

Adam’s throat was dry and he turned his body, stiff and muscles complaining, saw his abandoned glass of water. He shifted slightly out of Ronan’s hold, downed the whole thing in one go.

“Hey,” said Ronan softly, as Adam put the glass back down on the coffee table and returned to his position. “Feeling any better?”

Adam shrugged against Ronan’s chest. “Thirsty.”

“Well, that sounds better to me, a couple hours ago you didn’t know you were thirsty. You barely knew what thirst _was_.”

Adam nodded his head into Ronan’s tank top, the scent of Ronan enveloping him. He let out a long sigh.

“You wanna sleep?”

“’m not asleep?” Adam asked, then shook his head, “I mean, I haven’t slept?” He frowned.

Ronan squeezed Adam’s knee. “Come on. Up.” Shifted forward so Adam uncurled his legs and let them fall off the couch, let Ronan pull them up.

Adam was led to his bed, left at the edge while Ronan opened the nearest drawers until he found sweatpants. He threw them down on the bed and said, “I’ll get you some more water.” Stalked out the room. Adam looked at the clothes for longer than necessary before painstakingly taking off his jeans. He felt like he’d run a marathon. Everything ached, and he couldn’t think, didn’t want to think, couldn’t think.

Adam was under the covers when Ronan returned, curled slightly to his side. He heard Ronan place the glass on his bedside table, and maybe he knelt on the floor, and Adam felt a dip in the mattress, maybe Ronan’s elbows. “Parrish,” he muttered, voice low and gravelly. Adam nodded, eyes still closed against the pillow, but he held out a hand and felt Ronan’s fingers slot into his own. “Here’s the deal. You’re going to sleep until it’s fucking tomorrow because I say so, ok? And then we’ll talk. No homework, no thinking, no going crazy. Just sleep. Ok?” Adam nodded again, and for some reason, shuffled his face forwards so he could press his lips against Ronan’s knuckles. A hand ran gently through Adam’s hair, and then he fell into the darkness.

He had expected it to be impossible. Adam Parrish had never slept more than eight hours in a row in his life. Had he even ever _had_ eight? A good night was seven, an expected night was six. Five was an ache in the stomach, a day spent pressing nails into his fist to keep himself awake. Adam hadn’t grown up with the _luxury _of sleep. Sleep was the thing that happened between shifts, school, chores, keeping his mouth shut – if he was lucky, enough to heal bruises and not so much to piss his dad off. His dad, who had never had eight hours in his life, who _wished_ he could sleep in, who worked hard for this _damn family_

Adam’s eyes blinked open.

He had no idea what the time was.

He looked up at the curtains – drawn, tucked neatly against each other, sunlight straining dimly against them.

The room was empty. Adam remembered Ronan’s conversation with Daniel and closed his eyes, groaned into his hand. Figured Daniel’s impression of him must be pretty irreversibly ruined by now.

Adam stretched out each limb under his blankets, and with each one, remembered something shitty he had said the day before.

_ Jesus I’m not fucking breakable_

Adam shook his head, opened his eyes, cracked the knuckles on his left hand.

_ You are the only person who doesn’t see how wrong I am for you_

Held up his right hand in front of his head and inspected it. Some of the cuts were healing, but his knuckles were still criss-crossed with grazes. Glass shards dripping in the sink.

_ I’m breaking up with you. Is that making sense?_

Adam leant up onto one elbow, half expecting to find Ronan somewhere in the room if his eyes searched hard enough. Everything was soft morning light, shaded beams thrown across a dark carpet.

_ He threw me down the fucking_

Adam threw the covers off and got up.

Fuck.

He had three options. One: he could go to class.

Adam Parrish didn’t skip class. Not intentionally. He was already considering how he could get notes from his missed lecture the day before. So, he knotted a couple of options together.

After a rush to get ready and hurrying books into his bag and coffee into his stomach Adam half ran across campus. The run knocked some of the breath out of him but it also felt like filling his lungs with air.

Two: he could go to Ronan and Gansey’s dorm.

Adam took notes on civil rights, took his paper from the professor, felt something glow inside at the _A_ resting at the top of the page. _If you don’t get an A your professor’s a fucking moron._

He packed up his things at the end and chewed at his lip.

He wasn’t ready to face both of them.

Three.

In the computer room Adam set his bag down, shook his head, and logged on. He didn’t really expect to have an email from Ronan – certainly not two, one with the subject header, "_read me read me read me_" the other just saying _“no but r u here yet”, _the body of the email blank. Adam opened the first one.

MORNING SUNSHINE.

☀️

Ok so I have a couple of issues to take up with you for fucking sure but I think you’re beautiful and you said I tasted like sunlight jesus so have a fucking sun emoji.

😊

Meet me for food please. BMW will be loitering around your car park. Don’t worry about her getting bored, she’s got a playlist all ready for a rainy day. Not that it’s rainy. It’s fucking lovely actually, you’d know if you ever got out of bed.

(Joking. I ordered you a full night’s sleep and if you’re at the car park too early I’ll be _pissed_.)

See you soon sunshine

Ronan xxx 🤨

Adam – something clenching in his stomach, lungs tired and airless; skin tight and grazed, blood pounding a little hard beneath the surface; brain fuzzy from too much sleep and too little sense – shook his head. He shook his head. He read the email again. Shook his head and didn’t smile, absolutely did not smile, leaned back in his chair. Read the email three more times.

Outside he paused to look upwards, shielded his hand from the beating sun.

It was October.

But it really was lovely, actually.

He found the BMW outside his building, wondered how long it had been there. He frowned, imagining an early morning Ronan, shivering inside his car. The sun was out, sure, but Adam wrapped his arms around his chest, feeling a fall chill wrap around his skin.

As he approached the car he saw Ronan inside, eyes closed, head nodding to some inaudible tune. Wondered which Ronan he’d get today. Realised he didn’t care.

He knocked on the window – it seemed only polite to knock on the window of a guy you’d tried to break up with several times the day before – and smiled when the door was pushed open.

Ronan retreated to his side as Adam slipped in, putting something back in the glove compartment and connecting his phone to the car speakers. Adam shut the door, pulled his oversized thrift store sweater over the knuckles on his hands, looked sideways at Ronan.

But Ronan was just smiling at him. “Where do you wanna go?”

Adam took a deep breath. “Anywhere.”

“Just for a change,” said Adam, accepting the greasy bags into his lap, for once not caring if he was staining his sweater. He’d worn it for two days in a row at this point. Had yelled at Ronan. Had been called sunshine. And the playlist beating its way out of the speakers wasn't the pipes of Ronan's childhood, or the ragged metallic sounds of his dubstep, or the quiet melancholy of his lowest point - it was everything Adam had ever heard in this car and liked, the _fucking sappy _shit that had 'come on by mistake', that Adam had loved, that he'd written down in the notebook Ronan had given him. _I didn't know I was lost_ wrapped itself gently around Adam's good ear, drumbeats nestling in his chest.

Nothing made any sense now anyway.

Ronan took the BMW up what Adam had come to refer to as Ronan’s favourite mountain. Was it a mountain? It was nothing compared to the Blue Ridge. But the roads snaked high and sideways and Ronan’s face did a happy thing while he was gliding up it. Adam couldn’t look away.

At the top Ronan pulled into a viewpoint so that the windshield of the car looked over everything. It was early still – 11am – and Adam wondered if there was such a thing as too early for fries.

“Is it too early for fries?”

“Rude,” said Ronan, stealing the bag from Adam’s lap. “For that, you get the egg sandwich.”

They ate in silence, and Adam let himself sink into it, felt his heartbeat with one hand resting gently over his chest, just grew accustomed to the space, here, next to Ronan, with this view across the October valley, under this sun, next to Ronan.

His brain had been doing somersaults all morning.

He had so much he wanted to say.

He was terrified of saying anything.

When Ronan had finished eating he rubbed his hands on his jeans, crumpled the bag into a tight ball and threw it on the floor in the back.

“Ok,” Ronan said, breathing into the silence for the first time in over ten minutes.

Adam nodded. Looked out the window. Overhead a bird was circling lazily, wings spread out on either side, floating gently on the wind.

“Ok,” Ronan said again, steeling himself. He shifted sideways to look at Adam, but Adam kept his gaze forward.

“I dunno if you wanna talk, or if you wanna ignore this, if you’d rather I fuck off…” Adam shook his head. He didn’t know. He didn’t know. But he didn’t want Ronan to leave. “But I want to clarify some things.”

Adam looked down at his lap. Felt his chest tighten, his heartbeat begin to speed up. “I hate this,” he said.

“I know,” said Ronan, and he hadn’t touched Adam all morning, hadn’t kissed him since Sunday, and Adam put a hand over his face. “I know, so how about I do it real fucking quick ok? Right. Number one. Your dad is a fucking asshole.” Adam rubbed his fingers hard across his eyelids. “He’s a fucking asshole, and he’s a _criminal_, and…” A ragged breath, Adam wasn’t sure from who. “He belongs in fucking prison, or a hole in the ground. Ok? Right. Number two.” A finger tapped gently on top of Adam’s spare hand, so Adam immediately gripped onto Ronan, felt their fingers curl together. “I guess it’s within your rights to break up with me, or something, if you don’t want this.” Adam squeezed Ronan’s fingers, pushed his face into his hand. “That’d be allowed. But I’m officially discounting yesterday because, no offence, that was a bit of a fucking mess. So you’ll just have to do it again. If you want to. If you’re not too much of a coward you shitting asshole. Anyway.” Ronan stroked one finger softly across Adam’s knuckles, almost absently. The hairs on the back of Adam’s neck bristled. He wanted Ronan’s hand to move across his neck, up into his hair. “Number three, and I’ll only say this once and then I’ll shut up – your sorry fucking excuse for a father, the steps, the… I’m guessing everything else… _none of it_ was your fucking fault.” Adam could feel his eyes growing wet but he squeezed them tighter together, concentrated on the tone of Ronan’s voice, even if he couldn’t hear the words. “You are pretty incredible, you know that? I can’t fucking believe you. You’re incredible. You’re incredible, Adam.” He lifted Adam’s hand and pressed a kiss gently to his palm. Breathed the next words almost imperceptibly into his skin. “I’m so in fucking love with you.” Everything stopped. Nothing was moving. Not the press of Ronan’s lips against Adam’s chapped skin, or the heartbeat pounding in his chest or the sound of birds calling to each other over their heads. _I’m so in fucking – _“Number four.” Ronan cleared his throat, dropped their linked hands to his thigh. “Gansey is _such a bellend_.” A breath escaped Adam, his lips curling slightly around it, and he shook his head. Thought he could hear Ronan’s grin as he went on, “Look man you haven’t known him very long but HONESTLY I could actually die right now. Fuck. Only he would fucking give the _if you hurt my best friend I’ll end you _speech to a guy with so many fucking issues you thought he was actually being serious.”

“He wasn’t?” It was the first thing he’d said, and he almost shuddered through it, moving his hand away from his face, dropping it to his lap. Kept his eyes closed. Rubbed his thumb over Ronan’s.

“I mean, yeah, he probably was, but for fuck’s sake Parrish he didn’t mean he thought there was any chance of that happening, he wasn’t telling you you were this manipulative asshole he wanted to break up with me immediately.”

Adam shuddered out a breath and opened his eyes. Shook his head. “God,” he said. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Yep,” said Ronan, but he sounded impossibly bright, and Adam glanced at him. He was smirking. How was he _smiling _right now.

Adam sighed. “Look,” he started.

“I’m not fucking done,” Ronan said quickly, body tensing slightly, and Adam dropped his gaze. “Ok number five is sort of an addendum to fucking uh number two or whatever. Ok technically you’re allowed to break up with me but here are some reasons you shouldn’t.” Ronan shuffled in his seat, removed his hand from Adam’s and turned sideways to look at him properly. Adam did the same, but couldn’t meet his eyes. Fiddled with his sleeves and gazed out the window at Ronan’s back. Watched a low branch swaying in the breeze. “I think you’re only doing it because you don’t think you’re good for me.”

“Ronan –”

“No, just, please. Just – you’re so good for me Parrish. I’ve never felt so – so good around someone. K – Kavinsky – that asshole – I thought I was…” Ronan was shaking his head, glaring at his knee, resting against the seat and bobbing tightly up and down. He brought his wrist to his lips, chewed at the leather bands before tearing his arm away and staring out the windshield. “I just didn’t think I was anyone, anything. I thought that was it. High all the time and quick fucks and Kavinsky telling me I was his favourite and that he was going to ruin me for anyone else, that I was disgusting, that dad – that it was all somehow my fault,” Ronan shook his head tightly, frown fierce and teeth clenched, “a 50% chance of dying on the road before we made it to 19 and fucking laughing about it.” He took in a deep breath and glared at Adam. “How can you think this is _anything _like that. Christ, Parrish, I feel so happy when I’m with you.” He was still glaring, and against all odds something was twitching inside Adam, in his fingers, on his face. “You’re a fucking idiot if you think you make me anything but happy, anything but… _better_, that I feel anything but _better _about myself when I’m around you. I think you’re incredible, you make me laugh, you make me wanna get up in the morning, you make me wanna _study_. Which is a fucking crime. I just… _Jesus_.” He looked away then, folded his arms.

Adam smirked. “You done?”

Ronan huffed. “Fucking no.” Then he considered. “Maybe. I’m mad at you.”

“Ok.”

“You have the worst fucking taste in music.”

“Ok.”

“Piss off.”

Adam breathed out. “I think I might love you too.”

Ronan hesitated for only a second, and then he kissed him then like they’d been starving – hands in Adam's hair and nose nudging against his cheek, arms wrapping around each other like anchors – and Adam thought maybe they had.

Later, when they eventually broke apart, small shallow breaths into each other’s mouths, Adam tugged at Ronan’s hand, whispered, “Let’s go for a walk. _Sunshine_.”

“_Asshole_.”

“_Sweetheart._”

“Fucking _die._”

Outside Adam clasped Ronan’s hand firmly in his, and they walked along the road, and:

argued about whether what they were stomping along was a hill or a mountain;

talked about what Ronan’s therapy had been like while Adam listened, quiet and a little scared;

tried to work out what the trees were that lined the road;

were quiet after Ronan had brought up the possibility of pressing charges;

laughed after Adam slipped off Ronan’s back, Ronan sweaty and glaring after carrying him ten steps;

whispered gently against the others’ lips.

At the peak, a sign exclaiming they’d made it to so many feet – _see Parrish it’s a fucking mountain that must be why I’m close to death jesus_ – Adam said, “I’m sorry.”

Ronan huffed and dragged an arm around Adam. Pulled him against his chest. “For what?” he said quietly. For a few moments they just stood, and Ronan had never felt so warm, and Adam shivered into him, and Ronan leaned back, shook off his leather jacket, wrapped it over Adam’s shoulders.

Adam grinned at him. “Hetero.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” and Adam grinned into Ronan’s kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter to epilogue the shit out of this beast. thanks so much for reading this has been so much fun adam is my absolute favourite and you guys are too you fucking cuties xxx


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg this is the actual final chapter, no lies, no jokes.  
more at the end but for now i'll just share the playlist i made for this fic in case anyone is curious. these are songs that i either listened to whilst writing, or ronan&adam listened to while being bros. (except for the irish album because i couldn't find it online.)  
should i be embarrassed that this whole thing turned into basically an extended songfic? maybe. am i? in the words of ronan, fucking no.  
https://open.spotify.com/user/tzirtzi/playlist/49gs1h4dB8MimAdgRURl4J?si=W4QpAno6QIq0rM2XH0e5AQ  
xxx

Adam figured: it’s not like he hadn’t tried.

On the way back to campus he declared, “It’s my turn,” pitching his voice loudly while music pounded through the car.

Ronan glanced at him sideways, turned the volume down a little and said, “Ok but first can I check – we’re not still on that whole breaking up thing are we?”

Adam shook his head. “No.” Shuffled in his seat to take Ronan’s hand and said. “I’ve already apologised for that. I’m in this. I really... I love you. And I heard you and… yeh. Ok?”

Ronan grinned. Shrugged. “Ok."

“Ok,” said Adam. He cleared his throat. “However –”

Ronan groaned. “How-fucking-ever, seriously? How are we not done with this conversation?”

Adam looked away, shifted his hand out of Ronan’s and tied his fingers in knots. “I broke the bathroom mirror.”

Silence lingered heavy in the car as Adam imagined possible replies; despite everything Ronan had just said, _I’m so in fucking love with you _warred with _you think you’re better than us _–

“Is that how you hurt your hand?” is all Ronan said, quiet and impossibly non-judgemental.

Adam nodded tightly. “Just – just thought you deserved to know.”

But for some reason Ronan let out a breath of impatience. “And what – you think that’s proof you’re like your father?” Adam tensed, didn’t look at Ronan, frowned at his hands. “Sorry,” said Ronan, gentler, “it’s just – that’s fucking ridiculous. You’ve never been anything but gentle with me. I’m not afraid of you.” Adam looked up to see him frowning at the windshield. “I _do _think it might be um… I mean I think it looks like maybe you have these panic attacks where you’re not, like, totally there. And – I dunno man. You already know what I think.”

Adam nodded. Ronan had suggested it on the peak. _Therapy_. What would his father think.

“Yeh I know,” said Adam quietly. “I uh… ok so the first time you touched me, you called me _sweet_ and…” he shook his head. “When I got back to my dorm I um… smashed a glass against the wall.” Ronan’s hand was already firmly gripping Adam’s, and Adam held it between his in his lap. “And then Gansey said all that stuff about you, and I thought maybe he could – well I don’t know actually. It’s all a bit, um, fuzzy, you know? But, yeh. I guess I – punched the bathroom mirror.” He let out a short laugh. “It’s… I can see,” he said slowly, “that…” He faltered. Ronan squeezed his hand, urging him to go on. Adam thought about it, let ideas and words rearrange in his head before taking a deep breath and saying, “So I thought this was all proof I was violent, that I was dangerous but… it only happens when I’m alone, and usually when I’m desperate for it all to just stop, like, um, remembering something bad or thinking in circles or, I dunno… and look it’s clearly not _good _I’m not _excusing _it, but… yeh maybe it’s um – something different?”

When Adam looked at Ronan he was nodding enthusiastically. “Yep,” is all he said. But it was so confident, and sounded so proud, and fierce, and like they were doing this together, that Adam just smiled. Ronan glanced at him and murmured, "I love you too."

Adam had no more classes that day, but he was getting a little far behind on his reading and assignments. “Jesus,” he breathed as Ronan parked and Adam picked through the planner in his bag. “I have no idea how it got this bad.”

Ronan took the planner from him and read Adam’s to do list. “History… you know, I bet Gansey could help with that.” He didn’t push it further, handed Adam the planner back and got out the car. Adam took in a deep breath and dragged his bag out the car.

“All fucking right,” he muttered under his breath.

Ronan laughed. “What was that?”

Adam glared at him, grabbed his hand. “I can see Gansey.”

“Yeh,” said Ronan. He stroked Adam’s thumb, kissed his cheek. “Remind me why?”

“Because,” said Adam, tugging Ronan along behind him, walking with determination, “I’m… I’m fucking good for you.”

Ronan pulled Adam to his side so he could hug him as they walked. “Damn right Parrish, you tell him.”

“Let’s just,” said Adam, curling his hand round Ronan’s waist, “let’s just do homework and have dinner. Normal. Yeh?”

“Sounds perfect,” said Ronan, kissing the side of his head. “What do you want me to make?”

Adam looked up at him. “Tacos?”

Ronan kissed him again. “Whatever you want, love."

Outside Ronan and Gansey’s door Adam tugged his sleeves over his fingers, let Ronan tug them out again and into the dorm, hearing him say, “_Dick_? You home? We’re making dinner.”

Adam stood in the middle of the room, clutching Ronan’s hand between his own, when Gansey appeared in the bedroom doorway. Adam fiddled with Ronan’s fingers. Gansey beamed. “Adam,” he said.

Ronan made tacos and Adam and Gansey sat in the middle of the floor, legs crossed, pouring over textbooks. At one point, when Adam heard something hissing in the kitchen, Ronan’s colourful language filtering out, without looking away from the book balanced on his knee he said, “I’m sorry. For… I dunno. Being weird. Ronan says I overreacted to uh, what you said to me.”

He could feel Gansey looking at him. “Really? Because he told me I’m an unsocialised ignorant asshole excuse for a friend who should very much consider himself on a time out.” Adam looked up to see Gansey smiling. So he smiled too. “With more fucks, of course.”

“Of course,” said Adam.

Gansey sighed. “I am sorry, Adam. Good lord, when I think about how I spoke to you…”

Adam shook his head. “Nah. Don’t worry. You didn’t know that I uh… you didn’t know about my… um, father.” Gansey nodded. “Ronan told you, I guess?” Gansey looked away. Adam let out a breath. “It’s ok. I could have just told you guys ages ago. Might have made things easier.”

Gansey looked back at him, eyes sharp and focused. “Don’t apologise, Adam. You should be allowed your secrets. I will very much try not to fuck this up again.”

“_Don’t make promises you can’t keep dickweed_,” yelled Ronan from the kitchen. Adam grinned. Gansey sighed. They went back to their work.

The tacos were delicious.

On Saturday, Ronan’s little brother visited.

Adam was nervous, but that was normal, he guessed, meeting your boyfriend’s family. He assumed, anyway. But Matthew clearly meant the world to Ronan, from how he’d spoken about him and their childhood and their family. And from what Adam had learned about Ronan, he didn’t have many people in his life, but the ones he did he loved with his whole body.

And that was kind of intimidating.

So Adam swung by the campus store and bought donuts. Because who doesn’t like donuts?

In the parking lot outside Ronan’s dorm Gansey was stood leaning against brick, the collar of a salmon polo shirt sticking out over a navy blue Oxford sweater, smile beaming in faint October sunlight, as Ronan held someone in a headlock. A fourth figure stood a little further away by a car, leaning into the trunk.

Adam made his way over, and Gansey saw him first, called, “Adam! You made it.”

Ronan looked up and released what was presumably Matthew from a very violent welcome. “Parrish,” he said as Adam stopped in front of him, “This is Matthew. Matthew,” he punched his brother on the arm then gestured at Adam. “This is Adam, my, uh, boyfriend.”

Matthew was rubbing his arm but grinned at Adam. “He only just told us about you. He’s an asshole! Can I hug you?”

Adam blinked and looked at Gansey, a little startled by the speed of speech and enthusiasm, but Gansey was just grinning. Ronan rolled his eyes and said, “No assface,” slowly wrapping Adam against his side, curling a hand around his waist. “You can shake his hand?”

He said this like a question, and Adam couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed about this anymore, he was just so eternally grateful for Ronan, so he smiled at Matthew and held out his hand.

Matthew took it without hesitation, no question on his face, as he said, “Oh, are those donuts? I love donuts! Cool!”

“Jesus Christ,” said Ronan, “will you calm the fuck down.”

“Don’t blaspheme,” said a lower voice from behind them. Something that looked a little like Ronan, a little like Matthew – dark, short curls on top of a open collar and dark jeans – gave Adam a once over.

Ronan’s grip tightened around him. “Adam, Declan.”

Adam raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment, just held his hand out to Declan next. “Nice to meet you,” he said.

Declan shook his hand once, quickly, released it. “Ronan, you should have said something.”

“Why, so you could be an asshole about it?”

Declan rolled his eyes. Matthew punched Ronan on the arm and held out the bag of donuts, sugar round his mouth. “Have a donut,” he said to Ronan.

Adam wriggled out of Ronan’s arm and looked at Gansey, helplessly. Gansey strode forward and said, “I’d love one,” took a donut, and Declan’s hand, asked him about the drive, and the weather, and his job, and the five of them started walking off in one group, away from campus.

Gansey was holding Declan and Matthew’s attention a little way ahead of them, so Adam took a moment to compare Declan and Matthew, Ronan’s brothers. It was odd how they both looked more like Ronan than each other, despite the curls. Like Ronan was the middle piece that fitted them all together. He said to Ronan, “I didn’t know Declan was coming too.”

“Neither did I,” Ronan muttered, squeezing Adam’s hand. “I’ve been shanghaied. This is against my human rights. I have no idea what he’s doing here."

Adam squeezed back. “Maybe he just wants to see you?”

“He never _just _wants to see me,” Ronan muttered again, kicking at the ground.

“You never really talk about him,” Adam said. “I’m guessing you two aren't as close as you and Matthew?”

Ronan shook his head, but didn’t say anything else.

In the diner – Declan and Matthew on one side, Gansey against the wall, Adam and Ronan on the other – Declan leaned towards Adam and said, “So, Adam, tell us a little about yourself.”

Ronan sighed and leaned dramatically back in his seat. “What is your problem?”

Adam flicked him on the nose. Matthew laughed, and Declan raised his eyebrows. Adam said, “Don’t be shitty,” and turned to Declan as Ronan rubbed his nose. “What do you wanna know?”

Declan grinned.

They talked about college and course loads and Adam’s jobs during high school – to which Declan only nodded, seemed more impressed that Adam had managed to do everything he’d done as a kid rather than fixating on the type of jobs he’d had – and when Declan asked about his parents Ronan put his hand on Adam’s knee but Adam just shrugged and said, “Not worth talking about,” sipped his drink, and Declan left it at that.

It wasn’t until Ronan was in the bathroom that Declan said, “Listen, Adam…”

Thank god for Gansey. “Declan, can I have a word?” He stood and with one hand to Declan’s shoulder nudged them away from the booth. Adam watched them go outside.

Matthew said, “What’s all that about?”

Without looking away from the window at their huddled forms Adam said, “He’s probably informing Declan that he’s already had _the talk _with me.”

“What talk?”

Adam looked back at Matthew. “You know, the whole… if you hurt him I’ll kill you, thing.”

Matthew smiled, and it was something joyous and tentative all at once. “Everyone really loves Ronan.”

Adam couldn’t help it, he beamed at Matthew. Nodded. “Damn right.”

When Ronan got back Adam practically pulled him into the booth, kissed his cheek. Ronan looked a little embarrassed, flicked a look at Matthew, then outside. “What’s going on?”

“Everyone just really loves you,” Adam said with a grin.

Ronan blushed furiously and Matthew said, “Damn right,” and slurped his milkshake.

On the way back from lunch Adam walked with Matthew and Gansey, keen to let Ronan and Declan talk. Couldn’t help overhearing a little.

“Seriously man you coulda told me you were coming.”

“What, so that you could mysteriously skip town?”

“I wouldn’t have –”

“Just don’t.”

Silence, and then, “What are you doing here?”

“I can’t just want to see you? It’s nearly your birthday.”

Adam raised his eyebrows and turned to Gansey and Matthew, whispered, “It’s nearly Ronan’s birthday?”

They both nodded solemnly back. “He’s impossible to buy for,” said Matthew glumly.

“He hates his birthday,” said Gansey quietly. “Has done ever since Niall died.” He slung an arm casually around Matthew’s shoulders. “It’s so good you’re both here,” he said a little louder, and Matthew smiled.

In Gansey and Ronan’s dorm, everyone with a cup of coffee except Matthew, who sat upside down on the sofa, curls dangling into the carpet, Adam sitting on the floor watching him, Gansey said, “What shall we do tonight?”

Ronan was fidgeting, leaning against the wall. Adam looked at him and Ronan said, “Well, there’s a thing we could go to.” When Adam raised an eyebrow in question Ronan looked only at him and said, “It’s the lgbt soc night at the bar.”

Matthew sat up and said, “Let’s go!”

Declan said, “Bar?”

Gansey smiled and blew across the top of his coffee.

Ronan muttered, “We don’t have to.”

After a second Declan said, “Sounds great. I might just get a little reading done before then, if that’s ok? Gansey you said I could use the desk in your bedroom?” Declan stood swiftly and grabbed his bag, shutting the bedroom door behind him.

Adam stood up and tugged Ronan’s hand, pulling him over to sit with him on the floor. “What’s up with Declan?”

Matthew whispered loudly, cupping his mouth as if he could hide his words from Ronan, “He wants to be supportive because Ronan thinks that Declan cares he’s gay, and he doesn’t, but he doesn’t really like people. Or loud music. Or fun,” he added, smirking.

Ronan was frowning at the floor, so Adam stroked his hand across his knuckles and said, “He sounds like a good brother.”

Matthew nodded, serious. “He is.”

It was a pretty tame evening.

The campus bar was the top floor of one building, pool tables and bad lighting and a small bar in one corner. Matthew and Adam abstained, Gansey and Declan sipping slowly at whisky while Ronan threw back a beer, Declan’s expression tight and unhappy.

Adam squeezed Ronan’s hand under the table and whispered in his ear, “He’s just worried about you.”

Ronan shrugged, but he slowed down after that.

The music was mostly terrible, and they didn’t recognise many people – Adam waved at _sounds gay i’m in _across the room – but Adam felt warm, wrapped up tight next to Ronan, listening to Gansey and Declan’s warm conversation, like they’d known each other for years – which they had – to Matthew’s stories about school and home. Adam sipped at his coke and leaned into Ronan.

Sometimes Adam would feel Declan’s gaze on him, and it was as heavy as Ronan’s; sometimes he would challenge it, meet Declan head on, then look away. Sometimes he just smiled at Ronan as they were talking, as if to say _Yeh? What you gonna do?_

So when Declan went to the bar, Adam excused himself and followed. He leaned against the bar next to Declan and waited til he met his eyes. “It’s ok,” said Adam, “if you want to say something to me. I know Gansey asked you not to. But it’s ok.”

Declan looked uncomfortable, glanced back at their table. Adam said, “I can handle Ronan.”

Declan looked back, assessing him. “Yeh, I guess you can.” He looked up at the person serving, accepted his drink and paid, but didn’t move away. He said, “How much do you know?”

“Everything,” Adam said, sitting on a bar stool and folding his arms on the bar. “I know about Kavinsky, and the cars, and the drugs, and the suicide attempt, and your dad.” Figured it was best to be blunt. “And you don’t know anything about me, and that bothers you.”

Declan’s eyebrows were raised, but he just said, “Yes.”

“I really like him, Declan,” said Adam, bold and confident and sure, light dancing through his chest. “And I’m friends with Gansey, and I’m meeting his brothers. Tell me what’s worrying you.”

Declan let out a breath. “Jesus,” he muttered, looking away and into his glass, tilting it towards the light. “Ok, I can see why he likes you. Kind of,” he added, but he was smirking, so Adam smiled too, and they left the bar together. On the way back Declan just said, “He’s more fragile than he looks.”

Adam said, “I know. So am I. We're working on it.” Then he broke away and sat down, kissing Ronan on the cheek as he did so.

Ronan glared at them. “What the fuck have you two been talking about?”

Adam said, “Why the hell didn’t you tell me it was nearly your birthday?” Ronan rolled his eyes.

“Birthdays are a construct,” he muttered.

“When is it?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“This is unjust,” said Adam.

Gansey grinned and said, “Give up now, Adam.”

“This was the closest to his birthday I was allowed to visit,” said Matthew, half-laughing.

“This isn’t _for _my birthday,” Ronan snapped. “You’re just – here.”

Declan rolled his eyes. “And I suppose the package from mom in the truck is just a happy October gift?”

Ronan ran his hand over his face. “Jesus,” he muttered, angry, but it sounded like the sort of angry where he was really, really happy.

And then the song changed.

Adam stood up, suddenly. “This is our song!”

Matthew chortled and Declan raised his eyebrows but Ronan just huffed and said, “This is not our fucking song, Parrish.”

But Adam was mouthing _I love to see you smiling, why you try to hide it?_, holding onto Ronan’s hand and swaying them. Ronan was clearly trying hard not to smile. Adam tugged him to his feet. “This is not our fucking song,” Ronan said again.

“Aw, this is so sweet,” said Matthew.

Gansey said, “They sing it to each other all the time.”

Ronan threw a napkin at him. Adam dragged him across the room, and Ronan said, “What exactly do you think you’re fucking doing?”

“Dancing,” said Adam, as they neared the eight or nine people bopping enthusiastically on the too large dance floor.

“I don’t fucking dance,” muttered Ronan, still holding onto both of Adam’s hands, as Adam moved them to the beat, bobbed his head, moved his hips a little to the side. Inexplicably Ronan laughed, moved his hands to Adam’s hips and pulled them against each other, kissing his neck.

Adam whispered, “_I said hey, would you go with me_?”

Ronan sighed into his neck, and Adam shivered, and wrapped his arms around Ronan’s shoulders, and thought about all the times they’d spent in the car together, listening to music, pretending this song wasn’t in every playlist; how Ronan’s hand always found Adam’s; all the times they'd held each other up, how safe he felt with Ronan; wondered if he could do this every day, hoped he'd get to; swore he could feel sunlight beating across his face in time with the booming under his feet, in his chest.

Ronan whispered, “_Hey, would you stay with me?_”

Adam pulled back enough to run his nose across Ronan’s cheek, felt Ronan’s hands dig into his hair, and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like i'm actually so sad. i loved writing this so much, and you guys have all been so nice, you've really helped me when i was worried it wasn't very good, or too much, or too little, or whatever - just, thank you. :) :) :) maybe one day il write adam doing ronan's birthday (i already know what he gives him), or meeting his mom at the barns (i never really explained her but, yah, she's alive, because ronan deserves some happiness), so like watch our for that in case that happens? but it might not. do whatever you like. much love! :) hedy xxx


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